


For They Have Sown The Wind

by B_Radley



Series: The Minstrel Boy [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Canon Compliant, Diplomacy, Espionage, Love, Multi, Pain, Survival, Teacher-Student Relationship, Thriller, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 39,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7758541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at the Clone Wars and the effects on the Jedi Order and the Clones through the eyes of less well-known and lower-ranking Jedi.</p><p>Some familiar faces and some not-so-familiar, as well as original characters move through the cauldron in diplomatic salons, covert actions, and the bloody, tragic frontlines.</p><p>First up, Jedi Master Shaak Ti and her Padawan are sent to Corellia to try and convince the Five Brothers and their people to stay with the Republic in the face of a growing Separatist movement. Takes place before and during Attack of the Clones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Now I Lay Down My Burthens

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I know that Wookieepedia says that Shaak Ti's fate as depicted in Yoda's vision in Season 6 of the Clone Wars is canon,but I feel that this depiction is more allegorical, as many other things in Yoda's visions don't play out as depicted. I feel it makes more sense for her to meet her fate on Kamino. Otherwise, I stick fairly straight with canon, and play fast and loose with the old EU.
> 
> Trying shorter chapters. This work does tie into my other series.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please feel free to comment, even if it is critical. I promise I won't curl up in a fetal position for the rest of the day. 
> 
> In real life, they say I take my pay in sunsets.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories and Preparation

**Empire Day 0**

The last Knight falls through the air, his mind and body a mass of pain. A mass of pain, but pain that is only his. Unlike earlier when he felt his Order - the Order that he was abandoning before this widespread misery struck him down, die as a body in a collective scream. He had tried to find individual voices within that cacophony of pain. Fellow Knights who had fought and bled with him. Masters who had taught him. Padawans whose lives he had touched in his teaching.

He especially searches for one voice in particular - a young woman's voice last heard whispering his name as they clung to each other in new-found passion, but had quickly faded as she fled the new, strange emotions.

No one voice cries out to him.

His grip on that energy field - the constant background hum in his mind since he could formulate conscious thought, the field that had connected him to his fellow Jedi and to untold power was slipping as fast as he fell through the air.

The pain increases as he stretches his mind to make one last grasp at the field - a grasp that would prevent him from splattering on the deceptively soft ocean of this world.

As his brain's power circuits fade with the energy field, he feels the connection for a brief moment. Brief, but long enough to to slow his descent to where his body only strikes with a bone-jarring crash, rather than a bone-pulverizing impact.

The connection to the Force - that mystical energy field is gone.

The Knight sinks below the surface. The armor and helmet that he is wearing, which allows him to resemble his millions of brothers, _no, former brothers,_ seals with a small supply of oxygen.

Enough to keep him alive until the suit and he are crushed by the weight of this world's planet-wide ocean.

He can feel the pressure building in his ears and sinus cavities. His vision grows black from the edges in, as the pressure squeezes the blood and oxygen from his brain.

In the center of his vision, as the black curtains close, he sees a woman's face. A woman who had raised him and brought him to this moment. A woman whose serene patience, good humor, and wise counsel had enabled him to grow as a man and ascend to the status of a Jedi Knight.

A woman who he had just witnessed dying on the platform of the city above the sea, her own lightsaber through her chest at the hands of those same brothers whose armor he wears. Those brothers who she had taught and loved as if they were her own children.

He had witnessed the vivid intelligence and life fade from her dark eyes. Those calm, wise, eyes. Eyes that had shined with pride when he had faced the challenges that she had hurled at him and eyes that had flashed with annoyance at his less successful endeavors.

_Or when his mouth exceeded the capacity of his brain to process._ Brief glimpses of annoyance that would usually be followed by a smile and a gently cutting remark delivered in that quiet, calm voice.

The picture in his mind of her death is replaced by one of her looking at him over the cerulean shaft of her lightsaber, as her eyes and smile challenge and push him to strike his green blade at her.

A picture of a lifetime ago. When the galaxy was at peace. Or something that resembled peace, with dark clouds gathering at the edges.

Dark clouds like those closing his vision.

The image of Shaak Ti shrinks to a pinpoint as his chest constricts.

Taliesin Croft has a slight sensation of furry arms grasping him as that pinpoint disappears.

XXXXX

**Coruscant  
** **The Jedi Temple  
** **Year 13 of the Great Resynchronization**  
**(Approximately 3.5 Years before the Fall of the Jedi)**  


The two combatants circle each other warily. Both opponents had abandoned the thick robes that denoted their status as Jedi to the sides of the chamber. They are clad in under tunic and singlet and trousers and skirt, respectively. Their lightsabers hum with their ancient drone. Blue and green energy would occasionally flash as the opponents feint and parry.

Sweat runs from both combatants equally, but one of them wears it better. A tall Togruta woman, her red arms bare for combat smiles at him challengingly, as her blade circles, her feet sure on the hard floor.

The younger, male combatant, a human whose body speaks of solid dependability, as well as strength and skill, smiles as he watches his master.

His Master can hear the murmuring of a small group of Knights and apprentices who have gathered shortly after the contest began, almost an hour ago. A smaller, quieter collection of Masters, watch and appraise the apprentice's skill as a duelist. More subtly, even though Jedi do not judge, they are appraising her skill as a Master.

_Of course from a strictly external standpoint, I have already failed, as they look at my apprentice's shaggy beard and hair, which is not the norm for a Padawan learner._

Shaak Ti immediately discounts her fellow Masters' opinions on this matter, as her young Padawan is a unique case.

_Of course, he could stand to neaten the beard and hair up a little bit._

Ti breaks off her thought as she barely dodges a leaping cut from his powered-down lightsaber. Her eyes smile as she sees the smirk form on his face. "You're getting slow in your dotage, Master," Taliesin Croft says.

"I can still teach you a few things, you insolent pup," she responds, her smile growing to her lips.

"Only if I happen to fall in a vat of lubricating oil," he snarks.

"Well, that would help you tame that _themiar's_ nest of a beard and head of hair," she replies, as she feints a thrust to his chest and swings towards his head at the last second.

"Hey, don't mess with the hair," he says with an easy grin. He manages to dodge a slice from the opposite direction, as Master Ti switches saber hands. As he dodges, he misjudges his step and starts to lose his balance. As Ti presses her attack, he is forced to flip backwards away from her. He continues his flip for several meters, as he gains his feet in the midst of his audience.

There is an audible gasp as he kicks away from them to advance on his Master. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees one of the two spectators who did not flinch when he landed in the midst of them. A small Togruta teenager who stands with her head on her arms on the guardrail that supposedly separates the spectators from the exercise floor. Her only response is to raise her head and floor him with her usual semi-toxic Smirk. He brings his attention back to his opponent as he advances on her cautiously.

He manages to notice the only other nonplussed spectator. A tall blond Padawan with blue eyes appraises his technique with great interest. Croft and his Master have fought for the better part of an hour, with neither one gaining an advantage.

For a Padawan to fight his Master to a draw for that long is something of note.

As he moves sure-footedly towards Ti, she smiles at him and begins to circle him. The tip of her blue saber starts to move in a tight circle. He ignores the movement and focuses on her.

Ti lunges towards his chest. Croft parries the thrust to the ground. Ti recovers and swings the saber in the wide arc and then down towards his head. Croft falls to his knees and blocks the downswing and follows through with a swing at his Master's torso. She parries the swing and jumps back. Croft uses the time to rise to his feet and leap forward, thrusting towards her torso.

With an almost lazy motion she swings her blade up and strikes his away. Sparks fly as his blade strikes the floor. As he is recovering, she swings her blade in an arc--

\--And swats him on the ass.

The powered-down lightsaber still causes a burst of fire up and down his left leg. He maintains his feet and brings his blade up, still prepared to fight.

A polite cough from behind stills his movement. Cin Drallig, the Temple Battlemaster and Master of the Saber, whose word is law in any lightsaber fight, looks through him. He lowers his blade and sheathes it.

"Well fought, both of you," Drallig says. "The fight times in at an hour and ten minutes. One of the longest we've seen in a while. Croft," the Master says, "you have truly improved that kneeling block and slash technique you've been working on."

Croft nods. "Thank you Master Drallig. Master Ti," he says, "Thank you for a truly memorable spar."

"It is I who should thank you, Taliesin. I haven't been challenged like that in a long time. Well done. I am very proud of you, my young Padawan."

Croft bows. As he turns to the audience, a smattering of polite applause erupts from the remaining gallery.

He notices a tiny Togruta and a tall young Padawan, seated on opposite sides from one another, sustaining their applause after the rest has died down. Anakin Skywalker, the tall human apprentice, nods in appreciation of the duel.

As he walks over to talk to Skywalker, he notices a small, wizened green being eyeing him thoughtfully.

 


	2. To Dare Mighty Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctrine and Disappointment

**Jedi Temple**

Shaak Ti allows the hot water of the shower to fall over her head onto her face. Her sensitive lekku react to the massaging cascade playing over them, as she works the soreness out of her muscles. She turns and lets the hot water pound the deep strain in her right shoulder, as the memory of that last parry and its hyperextension flows through her mind.

She would never admit this to her Padawan, but he had come close to defeating her in the spar. If he had brought his saber up a half-second faster after striking the floor, her swing would have been blocked. Analyzing his leverage, she realized that the resulting parry would've probably sent her own saber into her face.

She shakes her head. _Yes, I will admit it to him. He needs to know, in order to prepare for the next opponent._

She stands under the shower and thinks about the enigma that is her Padawan. A mixture of solemn thoughtfulness, biting sarcasm, immense compassion, and a stubborn determination.

She sighs. She is also beginning to detect a streak of cynicism that battles with the compassion and the idealism. Especially since his friend and crèche mate, young Baldrick had been expelled.

If any weakness was to be found, it was his need to overthink responses to challenges. Usually, he was able to quickly implement his response, but she had cautioned him that it might be dangerous.

Of course, the solutions he came up with to challenges usually succeeded in overcoming them.

A learner so driven to succeed after the deaths of her previous Padawans, that he challenges her to come up with ways to keep him occupied. A skilled Jedi, if not one with the raw power of a 'Chosen One' and an exceptionally skilled adept in the rare Shadow disciplines - one of two that are currently active and alive. His undercover missions with the other active Shadow, Quinlan Vos have earned him high praise from the Master.

She has experienced that skill first-hand, as she has been in a building with him and had been unable to detect even a glimmer of his Force-presence.

All of this from a young man who claims that he only wanted to be a Consular; a historian or an archeologist, rather than the warrior and peacekeeper he has become.

Croft came late to the Jedi. Not as late as some, such as Anakin Skywalker, but still at age five, Croft was at the extreme end as a youngling.

Of course, he managed to outlast the other Padawan who came with him, one who was three years older. The only other Padawan to pass the Trial of Shadows, before he was unceremoniously expelled from the Order. An expulsion brought about by an extreme dislike by Mace Windu and for being, as his Master so eloquently put it, "an all-around pain in the ass."

She smiles. She is very sure that she has used that description in her mind for Croft.

She holds the smile as she thinks of how his teaching skills have eased that almost grim solemnity. The challenge of leading a youngling clan - a group ranging in skill from raw younglings just out of the crèche to older Initiates - those waiting to be chosen as Padawans, has tested his patience, his skill, and in one case, his sanity.

But he has grown in experience and skill, as a result of it.

She thinks of the particular test for Croft. She had seen young Tano, an Initiate of great skill, both in Jedi skills and the skills of their shared heritage of the Hunt, watching the match intently, drinking in every strike. Ti had seen her after the match corralling Croft to analyze and critique his performance. Croft had patiently responded to her questions, as well as matching her snark and sarcasm with his own when needed.

She had also seen him taking time to discuss the spar with one of the other most promising Padawans, Anakin Skywalker, the 'Chosen One' and apprentice to Obi-wan Kenobi.

Kenobi and she had often commiserated on the techniques needed to teach talented, exceptional Padawans, although she counted herself very fortunate that she was not the Master of the temperamental Skywalker.

She was surprised that Obi-wan's auburn hair was still intact and relatively free of gray hair.

Her reverie was interrupted by a trio of young Padawans entering the shower. They were of an age or slightly younger than Croft's twenty-one years. She had seen them all watching the match with rapt attention.

They weren't studying the lightsaber technique.

There was some giggling and whispering until they saw Ti. The giggling stilled as they bowed and showed their respect.

She shook her head again, smiling to herself. _Let me guess. This is now a meeting of the Taliesin Croft Padawan Fan Club._

That was one area that she was sure his solemnity did not get in his way. She knew that Croft took advantage of the tolerance, or _acceptance and resignation_ given to experimentation among Padawans. She had seen him with one or all of these three, listening politely to their words and making them laugh and plaster silly grins on their faces.

She had also heard him sneaking out and back into their shared apartment in the early morning hours. She was also fairly certain he was not meditating in those meditation spaces, that she had seen he and one of these Padawans coming out of.

_Damned Corellians and their easy grins._

She sighs. The Jedi didn't impose celibacy, but she probably needed to give him Standard Attachment Lecture #3B, subtitled _Tone it Down, Croft._ She flushed as she recalled some of her own experimentation in that realm, as well as her dalliances later as a knight and Master.

_It has been awhile. Might need to go back to Shili and look up a hunt-brother or sister. All of hers were of age._

Of course, it wouldn't just be this trio that she had to be careful of. She was fairly certain that there were those in the male showers, as well, that he would listen politely to and make them laugh and plaster stupid smiles on their faces.

_He certainly takes the experimentation part seriously._

Her thoughts turn to more serious matters. Even though most Padawans didn't go through their trials until after at least ten years of an apprenticeship, she felt that his maturity was such that he might be ready after only six.

His own doubts would be his greatest trial. Every time he didn't succeed, she could feel the determination to master the unsuccessful task roll off of him in waves. He would push himself that much harder, as well as his young charges in the Clawmouse clan, when she had sent him down to train them and think about the error of his ways and his mouth.

He spent a great deal of time down there.

Most of his charges flourished under the harder regime. His drive fueled theirs, or at least the best of them.

He was not an unrelenting taskmaster, or even a perfectionist. The opposite. His drive came in the form of example, as well as patience, humor, and that stubbornness.

Patience and stubbornness that was needed in great quantities with at least one of his charges.

But also in the form of acceptance of their unsuccessful attempts as his own failure. She usually knew when one of his students was falling short. She would waken to find him in the Temple refectory, sitting with numerous cups of caf under his belt, the gears turning trying to find a flaw in his own teaching technique or a way to help the student.

She did worry about whether he thought that he was ready. His rare bouts of anger usually came about after his own small or large failures. He pushed himself to succeed. She had never pushed him because of her previous losses. She closes her eyes, murmuring a quick benediction from her heritage. Her mind's eye always flashes to their bright faces.

She thinks about her own part in that drive to succeed. A drive born of her own failures?

She does not fear. She is a Jedi; fear leads to anger. But she does harbor a slight _concern_ that her own perceived failures as a Master might be driving Croft. She knows that he is proud to be her apprentice and he wants to succeed to draw that hint of failure from her. A hint that she has heard whispered from other Masters who question her training techniques, with the emphasis on training in her hunting heritage, as well as Jedi training.

She has made a success of teaching Jedi with the aptitude in those hunting techniques. These lucky trainees' Masters had extolled the virtues of the added skills to their apprentices.

Croft himself, had excelled at the Hunt, so much so, that he had trained his own cadre. Young Tano had in particular, taken to Croft's tutelage, taking teeth at an age when she wasn't even supposed to be on anything other than training Hunts. She smiles as she remembers that particular Hunt. A Hunt in which the snark and sarcasm had flown in epic proportions between them. A Hunt that had challenged them both to the extreme limits of their skills. She had watched them both grow in the space of that day. Not just in skill, but maturity as well.

She comes out of her reverie, as she realizes that Aayla Secura is standing at the shower entrance, full clothed, watching her. She raises her eyebrows at the knight. "Pardon me, Master Ti," the Twi'lek says. "What is it, Aayla?" Ti asks quietly.

"Master Yoda would like to see you in the training rooms near Clawmouse Clan," she replies, "he has something he would like to discuss with you."

"Thank you, Aayla. Please relay my compliments to Master Yoda and tell him I will be there as soon as possible," she replies.

_This can't be good._

XXXXX

Taliesin Croft holds his lightsaber steady and swings it in an easy move to parry an imaginary strike. He repeats the move another four times, each time increasing the speed. He looks out over the young faces as he sets them to the moves. The older students stand behind him, as his watchful eye surveys technique. He notices a young Twi'lek, all of eleven years old, struggling in the uppermost part of the move.

He motions to his go-to junior instructor. "Runt," he says to the young Togruta, as he motions her over to follow him to the little one. "Jaylin," he says quietly, "you're doing well, but you need to work on the follow-through, or somebody might trim one of your lekku. As they are very handsome ones, I wouldn't want to see this happen." The youngling giggles. "Ahsoka, here, is going to help you on that part and only that part. As I have nearly parted her lekku before, she will be able to help you." He can feel the eyeroll on that one.

When he looks at her, she has an expression of serious determination. He smiles. "Remember, Runt. Patience. He will soon be bigger than you are. He has a long memory."

He gets the full Smirk treatment. "Come on, Jaylin, let's show him what we can do. He is just jealous that we will both be taller than him someday."

The two younglings laugh and set to their practice. He watches Ahsoka teach the youngling; within ten minutes, Jaylin's parry was close to perfection as an eleven-year old can make it. Ahsoka catches his eye. He smiles at her and nods. She, of course, Smirks.

The atmosphere changes in the training room. He turns and greets three powerful Masters as they enter the room. Yoda, Mace Windu, and his own Master, Shaak Ti, members of the all powerful Jedi Council. He notices that Master Ti is limping; favoring her left leg. He projects concern through their training bond. _It is nothing, Taliesin. Just old age, as you often remind me._

He smiles. His expression turns serious under the scrutiny of Yoda. The little green being projects his usual calm scrutiny.

It is the other Master, Mace Windu who projects the most hostility. If Jedi were actually hostile. _Easy, young one, he feels through the training bond. It is just guilt by association._

_That helps a lot, Master_ , he sends back.

"Padawan Croft, noticed we have that you have a tendency to use your older students to teach for you. Laziness, is this, hmm?" Yoda says.

Ti can feel Croft's feet glueing to the floor. It is the sensation that she feels when a bout of stubbornness is about to rear its head. It is usually directed at her. The end result is a trip back to Clawmouse to unstick those feet.

She feels him calm. "No, Master Yoda. I merely feel that they learn when they teach. I can only guide them past a certain point."

Yoda gives his inscrutable smile. Shaak feels the atmosphere lighten, as a twinkle comes into his eye. "Perhaps, Padawan. You guide them well. Your youngling clan members have the highest scores in their tests than any other clan. They are a credit to your guidance."

"Yes, more disturbing is the fact that they lead all other clans in appearances before the disciplinary tribunal as well," Windu reminds them. "Especially your prize student, Tano."

_Thanks, Mace. Can't have too many feels._

Shaak and he are not sure who actually sent that over the training bond.

Shaak starts to speak up. "Master Windu, with all due respect," says Croft, "the bottom line is, those disciplinary trials are par for the course for any good youngling. I looked up your own disciplinary record. You, too had a good number of appearances in your day. As did Master Yoda."

Shaak closes her eyes, as Windu's bulge.

"Those records are supposed to be sealed in the Archives, Croft. How did you get them?"

"Really, Master? I thought that they were public record." Croft's innocent expression doesn't waver.

"I thought your old buddy Baldrick was the slicer. I thought you were just the brains behind the operation," Windu says, his eyes narrowing.

Croft maintains his silence and his innocent expression.

A chuckle breaks the thick atmosphere. A chuckle from a small green being, whose syntax and measure decide so much in this building. Shaak breathes out. Windu's look remains steel, but a slight upward quirk of his lip is noticeable.

"As you say, Padawan Croft. The bottom line it is. Successful you have been with these younglings. Well done."

Croft looks down at his feet. _Look up, Taliesin. Live this moment_ broadcasts his Master. He looks up to see her eyes filled with pride.

"Well you have done, but the Order has need of other skills now. With your Master report to the Council in the morning."

At that, the three Masters turn and leave.

He turns back to his class. They have stopped their exercises to watch. "Come on, get back to it. Those parries won't learn themselves."

Ahsoka's expression of relief and sadness is too much. He turns away.

 


	3. An Agreed Upon Set of Fables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History and Farewells

**Jedi Temple  
**

Yoda sits leaning on his Gimer stick in his chair, observing young Croft standing in the middle of the Council Chamber. He listens to Croft being grilled by the Council members on his knowledge of Corellian history, which seems extensive for one so young.

Yoda reflects on the last time Croft stood before this body, almost three years ago. He stood there listening while Council members and his Master debated his future in the Order.

Croft's crèche mate, Phygus Baldrick's fate had already been sealed after the incident. What would have been a routine matter of punishment for a prank in the Council Chamber had been escalated by the fact that Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine had chosen that precise moment to visit the Chamber with his retinue and several Senators.

The resulting stench and noise emanating from the chair of Master Mace Windu had driven everyone from the Chamber.

Baldrick had been immediately under suspicion for the prank, because of who the target had been. Master Windu had made it clear from Baldrick's entry into the Order at age eight that he was against a street thief and orphan entering at that age.

He had not been that high on Croft himself entering, but at least he was three years younger.

Windu had already handed down a harsh punishment for young Baldrick for drinking and brawling in public, as well as for his less-than-stellar lightsaber skills and Force ability for anything other than a machine or electronic device. That was the one area in which Baldrick excelled, as a Shadow and a slicer.

The fact that he was only a bit taller than Yoda himself, had sealed his fate. Someone small had to get under Windu's chair. Neither younglings nor Yoda nor Master Piell were suspected.

Croft had immediately taken responsibility for the prank. Baldrick's Master, an old Alderaani named Horan, since deceased, had been of the same mind as Windu, when it came to his Padawan. He had disavowed the young apprentice's actions.

Croft's Master, on the other hand, young Ti, had taken an opposite approach. Not only did she quietly and devastatingly rebut any arguments for Croft's expulsion over a two hour period standing in the center, she had taken it upon herself to defend Baldrick as well.

In the end, Baldrick went, despite Ti's efforts. She had taken responsibility for Croft's actions, against his vehement protests. She and Croft had accepted a one-year banishment to Ti's homeworld of Shili, ostensibly to teach Croft and other Padawans and Initiates the hunting traditions of the Togruta.

Baldrick had immediately been snapped up by the Corellian Engineering Corporation (at a slight suggestion by Master Yoda to its CEO). Mace Windu had taken a year-long spiritual retreat to another Temple, again at a suggestion by the Grandmaster of the Order, to contemplate his emotions and anger.

Croft and Ti had flourished; their Master-Padawan bond strengthening and Croft's skill in the Hunt, as well as Togruta culture and language had increased, as much as any human could speak the language.

Of course, his new found skills had made him even more insufferable to Windu and others on the Council.

Ti had returned and had been unanimously selected for the Council to replace another dead member. Her time with Croft had only diminished a small amount, but she was much busier.

_Probably why Croft looks like a Wookiee instead of a human Padawan. That and his sometime covert status as a Shadow with Quinlan Vos. At least he has trimmed it and combed his hair._

Yoda returns to the chamber in his mind, rather than the past. He listens as Council members grill Croft.

"What, in your estimation, Padawan Croft," says Master Ti, attempting to draw Windu's interrogation away from her apprentice, "is the true cause of the situation on Corellia, where they are threatening to join the Separatists?"

"Master, I don't believe that the leadership of the Five Brothers," giving the traditional name for Corellia and its four sister planets in the system, "will vote to secede. They have a great many ties to the Republic for that to happen."

"However," he continues, trying not to sound like he was lecturing, a state that had put his young Hunt-sister Tano to sleep on many occasions, "The Diktat, the elected leader of Corellia, and Senator Garm Bel Iblis, have issues with..." He struggles for the right word to representatives of the Republic.

"Speak freely, you must, young Croft. No matter the cost," says Yoda.

Croft nods and continues. "The elected representatives of the people, have issues with the Supreme Chancellor and what they see as power grabs by he and his cabal in the Senate. They fear for democracy in the Galaxy, if he consolidates power, especially during the Separatist Crisis. Their opposition to his rule goes back to when he was elected Chancellor during the Naboo Crisis ten years ago. They felt that Bail Antilles of Alderaan was the wiser choice."

"You mentioned that you didn't think that they would join the Separatists, Croft," says Ki-Adi-Mundi. "What are their options to protest or try to prevent the consolidation of power?"

Croft pauses as if considering. "As of about 15,000 years ago, there is a proviso in the Old Republic Constitution called _Contemplanys Hermi_. It recognizes the role that the Five Brothers played in the creation of the Republic. Basically, the proviso says that the Corellian sector can withdraw from the Republic Senate, but maintain its status as a member with no veto power. The Sector can closes its borders and not be compelled to serve in any type of intergalactic defense."

"This is unique to the Corellians," Croft says. "I believe that Bel Iblis and Shyla Merricope, the current Diktat might invoke this, rather than join the Separatists."

There is a murmur from the Councilors. "Correct me if I am wrong, Croft, but the Diktat is not elected by the people, correct?" Windu asks.

"That is correct, Master. He or she is elected by the Corellian Council, which is made up of reps of large corporations and the largest cities. The term is twenty years and there are no term limits."

"However," he continues," the Diktat can be removed by the Council at any time."

"Is there anyone that might oppose the Diktat and the Senator?"

Croft looks to Master Ti. She can see that he doesn't want to answer. She nods. _Go ahead Taliesin_ , vibrates through his brain from the link.

"There is a semi-monarchical setup on Corellia. In the past there have been varying degrees of monarchy from absolute to constitutional. There have been kings and emperors. Right now, the only true Elder Family for the Five Brothers are the Blackthorns. They have been the traditional holders of the Electoral Signet, and currently they have the Protector's Chain."

He gathers himself and continues. "They have traditionally been protectors of the people's liberties against excesses of oligarchy and corruption. That sounds counterintuitive, but they take their oaths seriously. As a result, Corellia has one of the lowest instances of government and corporate corruption."

"Who is the monarch or the Elector, or whatever you call it?"

"Currently there isn't one. The last one gave up his responsibility in a dispute with his wife. He died a few years ago in an accident on Mandalore, along with his wife and son. The authority rests with an Electoral Council, which is run by Draq' Bel Iblis, who married into the family."

"You might recognize the name. He is Garm's father. He is also a member of the Diktat's cabinet, as the Procurator-Fiscal and External. He also oversees Corellia's intelligence apparatus."

Yoda speaks up for the first time. "Be dealt with, can he?"

"It is hard to say, Master. If he feels that the best interests of the Five Brothers are to stay in the Republic, he will influence the choice."

"Then the best Jedi to deal with this problem, we have. Master Ti and young Croft, go to Corellia you must. Reason with either Bel Iblis, you must. Stay in the Republic, the Five Brothers will, or if war comes, grave danger will arise."

Croft looks as if he wants to speak. Ti shakes her head slightly.

"We are sending several teams out to deal with border issues and fires that are cropping up. Master Kenobi and his Padawan have been sent to Ansion. Master Luminara and her Padawan will join them," Windu says.

Ti rises and goes to stand by Croft. "Go, Master. Your mandate is simple. Use whatever means necessary, especially given Croft's status as a Shadow to keep Corellia in the Republic. If war comes, we will need the Corellian Run and the Corellian Trade Spine."

"May the Force be with you, both."

They bow. Croft's expression is thunderous as he leaves the Chamber.

XXXXX

Master Ti can see that Croft has something to say. She stops him. "Taliesin, I know that you don't approve of this method. A method of possibly undermining a sovereign government, but you need to trust the Council."

Croft says nothing. He finally nods. "Yes, Master. It's just that I remember my home planet. I think that we are playing a dangerous game with their safety. If the Seps come in, the Five Brothers could be laid to waste."

"I know, Taliesin." She sees Windu and Yoda walking towards them. " _Baa'je_ ," giving his Togruta nickname from that Hunt, "go ahead. We have some time. Say goodbye to your charges. You may not see them for a while, especially if war comes."

He nods and walks away.

Windu walks up. "Does the boy know what his connection to Bel Iblis is?"

Shaak looks at Windu. "First thing, he is not a boy. He is a young Jedi. My young Jedi," she says, with as much dignity as she can muster. "Secondly, no, he doesn't know that he is a member of that Elder Family he spoke of."

"Thirdly, neither one of us approve of possibly undermining a sovereign government for the Republic's war aims. Even before the war has started."

Both Windu and Yoda nod. "We don't seem to have a choice, Master Ti," Windu says calmly. "You and Croft will have to do your duty to the Jedi and the Republic, rather than just one world. It is the reason I was against him coming here. He still has attachment to his home."

"We are very quick to label something as being for the good of the Republic or the whole, but then we don't think about the parts of that whole."

Windu remains calm. "Do what we must, in order the darkness to defeat," says Yoda. "Paramount, that is."

"Is it truly darkness, or just someone who doesn't do things like we do?" the Togruta master asks.

Neither can answer.

XXXXX

 **CoCo Town  
** **Dex's Diner**

Taliesin Croft sits with his back to the wall, nursing a cup of caf, waiting on his burger. He thinks about his mission to Corellia and what he may have to do.

He is a Jedi, he does what he is told, but he is not sure whether these instructions follow the Code that he swore obedience to. To try and turn one part of a planetary government against the other, invites chaos.

No one told them that is what they are supposed to do, but he has learned to translate Council-speak, even in his young life.

He can tell that his Master is troubled, as well, by this mission.

_What is the use of having principles, if you are going to throw them out the window at the first hard choice?_

He smiles, as he feels a bright presence approaching.

He doesn't even look up as the presence as his food comes. A small orange hand reaches and snags a root-fry from his place as its owner slides in.

"What are you doing away from the Temple, Runt?" he asks accusingly.

Ahsoka Tano Smirks. "We're on a training retrieval mission. Already retrieved my part and slipped away. I was bored and the new acting Clanmaster is even dumber than you were, Bait."

He shakes his head. "Come on, Ahsoka. Give her a chance and show some respect."

"We just got you broke in. Now they want us to work on another one."

"Maybe I just got y'all doing what you are supposed to," Croft says, darkly, as she snags another fry.

"Stop eating my fries, Runt," he says.

"I am a growing youngling," she says. "I need sustenance."

"You have credits?" he asks.

"Uhh--"

"I'll take that as a 'no." With a sigh, he waves the server droid over. "For the growing youngling, a bacon double cheeseburger, extra bacon, extra cheese, hold the veggies, fries and a vanilla protein shake."

"Wow, Croft, you remembered. You're being pretty generous."

His look softens. "I won't see you for a while, my hunt-sister," he says in halting Togruti.

Her eyes look down. "I hope it is not too long, my hunt-brother," she says in the same language, slowly, so he can follow.

"Can't be helped, Runt. Master Ti and I have something we have to do," he says.

Her eyes glisten. He softens. "I'll be back, Runt. I promise."

"Master Plo says that war is coming and the Jedi will be in the midst of it."

His own eyes look down. "I know, Ahsoka."

"I have passed all of my Initiate trials. I know that I am young, but I don't want to miss the war. I hope that I get chosen by a Master soon."

He closes his eyes. "I would rather see all of you miss the war. It is going to be a shitfest."

"That's a new word, Croft."

He smiles, "Just make sure you don't use it around your new clan master."

Her food arrives and she tucks in. He is careful not to get his hands and feet anywhere near her mouth.

Another presence makes itself known. The same species, but much more serene.

A series of trills interrupts Ahsoka's inhalation of her food. Croft is able to follow some of it, but the gist is that the young girl needs to get her ass back to the Temple post haste, before she winds up in the poodoo again.

Or something like that.

Ahsoka blanches. Ti smiles and produces a to go plate for the girl. She scoops her food into--what is left--and is about to leave, before remembering her manners.

"Thanks for the burger, _Baa'je_. I will see you soon?"

"We'll see, Runt." He rises. She puts her food down and says, in a clear voice, "May the Force be With you, Clan Master." She bows formally.

He returns her bow. "May the Force Be with you, Initiate Tano."

He can feel the pride welling in his master. But for who, he can't figure out.

_Both of you, Taliesin._

She grabs some of Ahsoka's leftover fries and nibbles at them.

"Speak your mind, young Padawan," Ti says.

"I think that you know my objections, Master," he says. "We are treading a dangerous path."

She nods. "I know. I told Yoda and Windu the same thing."

He finishes his caf and asks for the check. Ti takes it from him. "I have this, Padawan. Young Tano is a growing youngling."

He smirks at that. He gets up. "I will go see about getting a ship from the hangar."

She shakes her head. "The Council has decided that we will take a liner to Corellia to avoid any unnecessary attention. It will take us a few days to get there."

He doesn't roll his eyes at that. But it is a near thing.

 


	4. The Sweet Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparring again. Of all sorts.

**_Star of Coronet_  
Hyperspace Lane #3 Slow**

Croft moves his chair back from the table. He picks up his glass and finishes the dregs of his wine. Shaak Ti watches him with amusement, as she finishes her meal.

_Corellians_.

Of course, she was enabling him. She had forgone their usual simple meal in their cabins. She had brought Croft to the restaurant for a carnivore's meal. They had given in to both their heritages. Hers, fine steaks cooked rare. His, a fine Corellian vintage.

After the Council meeting and its revelations of their unspoken orders, Shaak would enjoy expensing the meal to the Jedi.

They were both traveling as incognito as possible. Their robes were packed away; they were clad in comfortable civilian clothes. Their lightsabers were hidden, so as not to draw attention to themselves as Jedi. Their cabins were close, but not adjoining. They had boarded separately.

Their discussions intentionally strayed away from the topics related to their mission. They discussed the upcoming Hunt season on Shili. They even dabbled in discussions of other sports. _Just like any other business associates would, who couldn't throw blunt objects with their minds. Or negate the effects of fine Corellian wine, or at least slow them._

_Or detect the feeling that someone is watching them. Not just watching them, either._ Croft feels his heart rate increasing, his breathing heavier. The civilian trousers are suddenly much tighter.

_Come on Croft. Alesha took care of your needs after the lightsaber spar. You're not twelve years old any more. What the hell is wrong with you?_

He is so wrapped up in his own body; he doesn't notice the rise in breathing in his Master. The uncomfortable silence as she struggles with her own heart rate and wonders where this is coming from.

She glances around the dining room and her eyes fall on one particular being, eyeing them both.

_Ahh_.

"Taliesin, I think it is time that we turn in," she says, "We have some strategies to talk over in the morning."

His eyes open fully. "Huh? What?" She rolls her eyes and smirks.

"Come on, let's get out of here. Long day tomorrow."

She sees the protests building. She jerks her montrals to the door. Her dark violet eyes narrow as she does. Croft stifles any words coming out of his mouth and rises. He is very familiar with that particular combination. She notices him walking very carefully and deliberately.

She can understand the feeling.

As they leave the dining room, he turns to his Master. "Master Ti, I don't think that I can turn in, now. Is it all right if I stay out a little longer?"

He can see her expression softening. She sighs. _Young males. Why couldn't I have a nice demure Mirialan Padawan, rather than the mixture of Corellian and Mandalorian hormones that I am stuck with?_

_Because you would be bored out of your huntress's mind, Ti._

"Alright, Taliesin. Stay out a little longer. Stay out of the dining room for a while. If you need to be bailed out from the Master-at-Arms force, call Master Windu. I am going to bed."

"You are welcome to come with me, Master, if you like," Croft says, somewhat sincerely.

Ti smirks. "No, I am going to turn in. I'll be in my bunk. Don't stay out too late, my young Padawan."

XXXXX

Croft walks towards the bar that he had spotted earlier, as they were heading to dinner. The feeling of blood pooling in certain areas has not quite dissipated with the walk. He senses anger and danger before he turns the next corner.

Three very large humans, dressed in spacer's garb are accosting someone else. One of the bruisers was already sporting a black eye. Another's lip was swelling. The largest and dumbest-looking, and currently uninjured one immediately turns to Croft and says, "Move along, little man. There is nothing to see here. You need to keep your nose out of our business."

_Little? 1.8 meters is a perfectly respectable height._

He looks at the accosted one. A beautiful, red-skinned woman of around his own age stares defiantly back at him. Her sparkling black eyes currently flash fire. Blood flows freely from her nose, as they hold her against the wall.

He tries to place the species from his long ago classes. _Nope. Drawing a blank_.

"Did you hear me, you little bastard?"

_Okay. A lesson in etiquette in dealing with orphans is warranted._

He centers himself, takes deep breaths. "Come on gentlemen. I am sure we can settle this without violence. Let us step into the bar, we will drink and speak of our prowess. That way, there will be less bloodshed and broken bones for you."

He can feel the smile from the crimson-skinned beauty.

"You think that you can take us all, little bastard?"

_Apparently, when he gets a line that works for him...._

"Well, seeing that this young lady has already softened you up for me, yes. Yes, I am sure."

This time he senses an eyeroll from the young woman.

The spokesbruiser swings at his head. He easily leans out of reach and grabs the arm. He twists it and feels it give as the man screams. Croft is sure that the human wrist doesn't normally look like that.

He stops admiring his handiwork as the bruiser with the eye kicks at his head. He is barely able to avoid the full kick; instead takes a glancing blow on his ear. He shakes his head to clear it and follows through with a right cross to the hinge of the jaw.

_Two out._ The Force senses danger. He moves to his left, as the thug with the fat lip swings a vibroknife at his chest. The thug misses, but the vibroknife clips his right bicep. His civilian coat and shirt takes the brunt, but he can feel a swath of fire along the muscle. He manages to catch the wrist with the blade and is about to serve up what he had served to the other thug, when he feels the wrist go limp.

The young woman handles the light work, as she brings a sock filled with coins down to her side. A sock that she has just applied to whatever soft spot she can find on the thug's head.

_It is a fairly difficult task, finding that soft spot._

She returns the blackjack to her purse. He walks over to the unconscious thug and starts a search. He finds a small blaster at the small of his back. Croft recalls a certain young Togruta actually paying attention to his lesson on disabling energy weapons. _Can't do that here. Have to be discreet._ He holds the weapon and visualizes the actuator pin. He visualizes it breaking.

He continues his search through the pockets. He finds a metallic object with a code cylinder attached. The metallic object consists of a silver, four-armed star with another in the center. _The Five Brothers._

_Cops. Great. I just charged in and disrupted an arrest._

_My master will not be pleased._

_Still, I have to maintain the cover. I might be able to salvage this._

He looks at the young woman. "Let's go get a drink. Not everything is as it appears, handsome," she says.

He disables the other blasters and discreetly waves his hand over the three bruisers, murmuring a command, when the young woman turns towards the bar.

XXXXX

He sits in the booth. She has already ordered two drinks. Some umbrella concoction for her and a whiskey for him. He raises his glass in thanks to her. He notices a couple of cloths and a bucket of ice near his seat. He takes one cloth and binds it under his shirt on the bicep, with the help of the young woman. The other cloth swallows the ice and is placed against his ear.

He notices that the woman's nose has stopped oozing. He takes this chance to take a good look at her. His eyes lock on hers. She is appraising him as well. She smiles warmly and he is suddenly struck by the feeling of intense warmth both in his innards and more outward parts.

The feeling that he has had since the restaurant is amplified. He is perplexed by the feeling, but files it for future use. He realizes that her eyes are tracking down from his face. He mirrors the movement. She is clad in a simple, low-cut shirt and skirt, that hugs her compact curves.

He downs his whiskey. He takes a deep, centering breath. He senses laughter through his training bond. He closes his eyes and closes the bond down, as much as possible.

"So what was that with those three assholes?" Croft asks the young woman.

"Don't really know. They tried to get me to give up my money. They said that they would charge me with prostitution if I didn't give the credits up."

His eyes narrow, but he doesn't say anything. "And before you ask, no, I am not a pro. People like me. They like to give me things."

He is skeptical. Even though he has lived in a cloistered Temple for sixteen years, he wasn't born yesterday.

She sees his look, and smiles. "My people enjoy kriffing. What can I say?"

He tries to stifle his look of shock at her words. "They are also very blunt when talking about the act. We don't believe in euphemisms."

"I'm sorry. I don't know your people. Forgive my ignorance," Croft says.

She smiles at his earnest look of interest. "I am a Zeltron. We are known for celebrating life to its fullest."

She looks him in the eyes again, after her eyes traveled southward. His trousers are very tight again. "What can I call you, handsome? I am okay with calling you that, but surely you have a name."

He is silent for a moment, as if weighing his options. "My name is Croft," he says after a moment.

She puts her hand out and takes his. "Hello, Croft. My name is Daaineran. But you can call me Dani."

His hand feels warm, as she caresses his knuckles with her thumb.

XXXXX

_Celebrating life to its fullest. All for it. It is amazing what you think of at certain times._

His mind goes blank as he stares into the eyes of the young woman. Eyes and a face positioned only a few inches below his, as they build a rhythm.

Strong arms and legs are locked around his back, as he moves inside of her, her thrusts matching his. She reaches up and kisses him, deeply. Her eyes lock on his as her hand moves to his face. He turns his head and kisses her palm. He moves his mouth to her breasts; feels her intake of air. Her voice rises into a crescendo as her finish builds. He can feel her nails scraping down his back and lower; feels the sting.

Lights flash as they explode together. She pulls him tightly to her as their breathing and hearts slow. She kisses him gently as he rests on her.

His mind slowly comes back to himself. He thinks of the fumbling he has been a part of with various Padawans, including the aforementioned Alesha.

A first step into a larger universe?

He snorts at that. She looks at him and laughs. She grasps him and flips him over. Her mouth makes its way from his, stopping at his throat, and then at a scar on his chest. She lingers there, before moving down to a more responsive area. He can feel the lights in his head building as her wet warmth engulfs him. She swings her legs towards his head. He instinctively knows, though inexperienced, what his part in this dance is.

As the night shifts, they lie in each other's arms. She waits for his breathing to be more regular and gets up. She walks over to his pile of clothes and searches them. Her eyebrows raise as she sees the cylindrical object hidden in his trousers. She is careful not to touch the button at the top.

She finds his comm and attaches it to hers. She can see the progress bar winking at her until it fills.

As it finishes, she walks over to him and runs her fingers through the mass of hair. She kisses him gently on his forehead and then his lips. An expression like regret plays on her beautiful features. _Celebrating life to the fullest, handsome._

She gathers her clothes and walks out. As the door closes, he opens one eye and smiles.

XXXXX

Two doors down, a Jedi Master pulls the pillow from over her head, as the noises have finally abated. She can only hope that the people staying in the cabin between theirs are out. Or very tolerant.

_Attachment Lecture #3C: Keep it in your pants, Croft._

 

 

 


	5. Some Damn Fool Thing on Corellia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Master and a Padawan learn.

**Star of Coronet  
On Approach to Corellia**

Taliesin Croft walks into the small breakfast cafe on the liner. He tries to keep his expression neutral and respectful, as he sits opposite his Master.

"How was your night, my young Padawan?" Ti asks, attempting to keep her expression as neutral as his.

_Failing miserably_ , as the smirk plays across her face.

"Uneventful, my Master," he tries.

Ti's eyes narrow. "Really? I would've thought that the sounds coming from your cabin would've marked anything but an uneventful night."

_Oh, shit._

Ti tries to keep the broad grin off of her lips at his deep blush. She struggles to adopt a baleful 'Master' look.

He has the presence of mind to look down. His eyes track up to hers. "I am sorry my Master. I have disappointed you again."

_His face looks so stricken_. Her expression softens. "No, Taliesin, you have not. You don't know anything about Zeltrons do you?"

"No, Master. I had never heard of them before last night."

"I spent time on Zeltros when I was younger. A several-months long mission. I learned some things the hard way." Ti says.

Croft's eyes widen. "Zeltrons, as you may have experienced," she shoots him a look, "enjoy life to the fullest. Especially the pleasures of the flesh."

He nods. "Figured that one out, Master." Ti says, "Don't get cheeky, young one."

"You may have felt something in the restaurant at dinner, right?" Ti says. "I certainly did."

"You, Master? You felt, uh--"

"Why do you look so incredulous at that thought? I am not so terribly older than you, Croft."

He starts to open his mouth; he thinks better of it.

"That is why I got us out of there. Your new friend was broadcasting."

"Broadcasting, Master?" Croft says with a puzzled look.

"For lack of a better word. Zeltrons are contact empaths. It makes them very intuitive, as they identify with feelings and emotions. They also possess very powerful pheromones."

Realization hits Croft. "I have been a fool," he sighs. "I have been manipulated."

Ti shakes her head. "No, Taliesin. They don't work like that. Their pheromones are basically reflections of their feelings through an empathic resonance."

She sees Croft trying to digest this. "So, she was reflecting her interest in me?"

Ti smirks and says dryly. "Well, you weren't the only one at the table, Padawan. You just may have been the easiest."

He wisely says nothing, but his eyes widen. He closes them as he considers this.

Ti sighs and continues, "Taliesin. I haven't said anything about your extracurricular activities; your experimentation. You have been discreet; Jedi are not bound by celibacy. I don't think that I have to caution you about attachment. But you must be careful and mindful of the mission."

She smiles. "This is all that I will say. Did you learn anything?"

"Many things, Master." His smirk is cutting.

She closes her eyes and then looks to the ceiling. "About the mission, Padawan."

"I do think she was up to something," he says.

"I know she was," Ti says.

It is the Padawan's turn to look at the ceiling.

"We may have to consider that our comms are compromised. I think that she cloned mine. She also saw my lightsaber."

It is the Master's turn to wisely not say anything.

Croft is thoughtful. Ti sees his brain working. "I might be able to use this."

"What do you have in mind?"

His response is interrupted by a beefy hand on his shoulder. "You need to come with us, you little bastard."

Croft turns and looks into the battered face of one of the thugs from the night before.

He smiles. "Good morning, Lefty. How're things? How's the sex life with only one hand? Not a lot of variety, I imagine."

Ti winces.

XXXXX

Ti's expression is unfathomable as she observes the three thugs. "You didn't say that you made other friends, Taliesin. Or are they all related to your new friend? Even better, have they all come to avenge her honor and make sure you 'do the right thing?' If so, I think that I might have to up the attachment lecture."

"No Master. They are probably here to arrest me. Or try."

The Togruta's words are icy. "For what?"

The head thug speaks for him. "Obstruction. Assault on CorSec officers. Being a smartass in a public place."

Ti smiles. "I would say that he is guilty of the latter. The Huntress knows that I have almost had him thrown in jail for that. However, I would like to see some credentials and have an explanation for his alleged crimes before I let you take him."

Another thug, this one with a fat lip and a bruise on the side of the head, speaks up. "This is none of your fucking business, tailhead. Stay out of it, or you will get some of the same."

Croft can feel the room constrict as Ti's face take on a different expression. One that has been directed at him at times, but never with this...intensity.

"May I ask your name, officer?"

"No, you may not. And it's Inspector. I don't answer to tailheads who stick their horns in places where they shouldn't, even after they have been warned. Come on, boy. Get up."

Ti rises, her dark eyes calm. "Taliesin, remain seated. The 'boy' as you call him, will not be going anywhere. He is under my protection. We are representatives...."

"I don't give a shit, bitch. You will come with us."

"Actually, Master--."

"Shut up, Taliesin. You've said enough, I think," Ti says.

Croft soldiers on. "Master, forgive me, but they don't have any authority over us. Or anyone on this ship."

"What do you mean, little bastard? We are CorSec. This is a Corellian-flagged vessel.."

Ti waits and listens. "That would be all well and good," her apprentice says, "if they were actually cops."

"What do you mean? We are cops--," the fat lip says. "

"Yes, I know. You have the thuggish looks of a Corellian cop. One step above a criminal--," Croft says with a look of innocence.

"But you said that you were an 'Inspector.' After I kicked your collective asses last night," Ti smiles at this, "I rifled through your pockets. Next time you decide to impersonate security officers, get your ranks right."

Ti waits patiently. Croft doesn't disappoint. "The shield in your pocket. It is a Constable's shield. The shape, color, and size are wrong for an Inspector. Your ego got in your way. Had to go with the higher rank, because you are compensating for something."

Croft stands. The two assistant assholes look in confusion at their boss and each other. They resort to the time-honored response of holodrama villains. They sneer and draw their weapons.

He can see his Master tense. There are many innocents in the cafe. He reaches out with the Force and confirms. He sends a message through their bond. _It's alright, Master. Please trust me. They can't hurt anyone._

He sees Ti visibly relax. He turns to the thugs. "You have no options. I disabled your weapons last night. I know your types. You probably didn't check them."

The lead thug points his blaster at Croft. As he does, a brilliant blue blade of energy slices the blaster in half. All three thugs are treated to the primal sight of a Jedi Master defending her Padawan. Of a huntress defending her clan.

Croft smirks. "And you say I think with my lightsaber."

"No. I say that you think with something else. Your--." He can see her struggling with the Basic. She finally gives up and gives a Togruti word. His eyes widen as he translates.

_Stalk. You think with your stalk._

He turns to the thugs. A slight gesture and the two remaining blasters fly into his hands. The thugs look at each other. They turn and run out of the cafe.

Ti sheathes her saber. They sit down. "So much for incognito," Croft says, as the rest of the cafe's patrons stare at them.

Ti shrugs. "Well done, my young apprentice." She looks down and takes a breath. "I apologize for trying to talk over you. I should've trusted your instincts."

Croft looks down as well. "It is alright, my Master. Force knows I can run off at the mouth enough, it's to be expected. Thank you." He bows his head in respect.

Ti continues, "I know that you study Corellian history, but I didn't know that your studies were quite so--detailed--as to extend to CorSec heraldry."

He takes a sip of water. "They don't. I have no clue as to the difference between a Constable and an Inspector."

"So you bluffed." Ti looks at him with an odd expression, but one that has a glimmer of pride.

"He is just being true to his heritage, Master Jedi, as a son of the Five Brothers." This is spoken in a gravelly voice, a voice that could move worlds. A voice that speaks of Corellia and of the Outer Rim mixed with a tinge of expensive education.

They turn and see the speaker in the door. A preternaturally tall male with a craggy face that has seen many worlds move and fall. He looks at them with a pair of steel blue eyes. Eyes that can either twinkle with humor, or flash with fire. An ironic smile plays across his lips.

Ti and Croft look around and see all of the other patrons and staff of the cafe standing in respect. They look at one another with eyebrows raised.

The tall Corellian walks towards them. With a smile, he clarifies his pronouncement.

"His words tell me that he is either very smart, or very dumb, or full of shit. A true son of Corellia."

The Dragon sits at their table. "Now that the formalities and the butt-sniffing are out of the way, let's talk."

"My name is Draq' Bel Iblis."


	6. Diplomacy - The Art of Letting Someone Else Have Your Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Circling and sniffing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attribution: The quote that is the chapter title comes from David Frost, noted British TV commentator

Jedi Master Shaak Ti watches as their erstwhile host accepts a cup of caf from the server. She patiently waits as he goes through the ritual of preparing the caf and taking his initial sip.

Her Padawan is not as patient. She can see the expression of distrust growing as Bel Iblis stalls. As she watches Bel Iblis, she realizes that despite his words, the 'butt-sniffing,' a time-honored ritual in diplomacy and espionage, is still occurring.

For some strange reason, 'the Dragon of Corellia,' as he is known is not analyzing her or watching her, beyond more than polite interest. He is entirely focused on her young Padawan.

Her eyes narrow as she thinks of the reason for this. _I think that the good Procurator and I will be having a conversation about boundaries and my Padawan. He belongs to the Jedi, not some Elder House on Corellia._

She stares at Bel Iblis. He gradually becomes aware of her scrutiny. He smiles his most charming smile, overlayed with a bit of the 'Dragon' smile, which has been known to cause various genders to surrender, in one form or another from the Corellian Trade Spine to the Hydian Way for nearly forty years.

She inwardly snorts. _I am not a young girl like Padawan Alesha, Procurator, willing to throw my legs open at the first Corellian grin._

His smile turns to a smirk. In response, she shows her sharp predator's teeth in her best huntress' grin. She sees a twinkle come into his eyes, as he nods.

She notices that Croft is looking between them with one of those easy grins on his face. _Should I leave you two alone, Master?_

 _Smartassed whelp,_ she sends back through the the bond.

"Procurator, as much as I am enjoying smiling back and forth with you and entertaining my Padawan, perhaps we should move this to a more appropriate arena, especially as we are coming in for docking," she says.

"Very well, Master Ti. Forgive me. It has been awhile since I have tried my charms on a Jedi Master. Especially one as beautiful and powerful as you."

She can feel the eyeroll at her side. She kicks her Padawan under the table. "I am fairly certain, Procurator, that your charms probably didn't work on the last Master you tried them on."

The Dragon smile returns. "You might be surprised, Master Ti."

He finishes his caf; the same caf that he had spent a great deal of time preparing. "Master, Padawan Croft. Please take your time preparing. I will send transport for you to take you to your lodgings at my Cantonment. Before I go, I do want to let you know one thing. I am not in favor of Corellia leaving the Republic. I think that our destiny lies with the Republic."

"But, the Republic has to want to not leave us, as well."

"That is my negotiating stance, Master Ti. I have the utmost respect for the Jedi. But Corellia is my home and where my heart lies. I will not see the Five Brothers hurt."

Shaak is silent as she digests this. Croft's eyes moves from one to the other. She can feel the admiration coming from him in waves. Admiration for both of them.

She nods. "As you say, Procurator."

As they rise, Bel Iblis stops before he turns to go. "By the way, Padawan Croft. Your three assholes have been apprehended by the ships' Master-at-Arms' force, with some help from my security detail. As soon as they are released from the ship's medbay for their various ills, we will transport them to the real CorSec; they will be our guests as we try to determine what they were up to."

Croft nods. "What about the girl?"

The Dragon smirks. "You mean the one that witnesses say softened them up for you?"

Croft doesn't rise to Draq's unspoken challenge. Ti is frankly amazed.

"Yes. That one."

"We haven't found her yet. When we do, I'll make sure that we get her comm code for you, so you can have a return bout. Even though the government of Corellia is not a dating service."

Ti holds her breath.

Croft's lips widen in a slow smile. She can see the gears turning. "Maybe when you do find her, you can ask her if she found anything interesting when she went through my pockets. And my comm."

Draq' doesn't react. Shaak looks at Croft with undisguised pride. _Let him know that we aren't as stupid and inflexible as he might count on; that we are vigilant. Well done, Taliesin._

"Interesting. Not that I know anything about that, but from what witnesses describe, she had your number pretty well. Ten minutes of drinks before y'all went off together. That was probably a record, boy. I am surprised that you remembered anything after the tune-up that you probably got."

"Well, I'm sure that there might be some memory loss on her part, too," Taliesin says drily.

Ti's eyes widen at that. She can see the Dragon's lips quivering.

Finally, Draq smiles. "Spoken like a true Corellian, boy."

Ti closes her eyes. _I've already had this conversation with Yoda and Windu._

Croft speaks up. "I'm only going to say this, once, you old bastard." Ti's eyebrow markings rise to her headdress. "My Master doesn't even call me 'boy.' She doesn't call me 'slick, sport, bud, kid, Junior,' or anything like that. She does call me a certain name when I annoy the shit out of her, which is often, but I know it is meant with love and respect for my skills. I also earned that nickname with broken bones, just like I earned the teeth on my lightsaber belt."

Draq's expression is unreadable, as his eyes narrow. He slowly smiles. "Like I said, spoken like a true Corellian. Okay, sport, we'll try it your way."

Croft's expression is thunderous. Ti sends a calming wave through their bond. He turns and walks out.

Ti looks at Bel Iblis. "I really wish that you wouldn't needle him so much. He is young, but he is skilled and smart."

Bel Iblis nods. "Master, with all due respect, I know where he comes from. I know what he came from. You don't have to defend his skill to me. Hell, I wiped his ass and changed his diapers at one time."

It is Ti's turn to nod. "That is one thing that we need to speak of. He doesn't know his connection to you and your Family or to Mandalore. He knows that he is Corellian and Mandalorian. I think that is all he needs to know. I would appreciate you not speaking to him about it. He is a Jedi, not your princeling."

Draq' narrows his eyes again. "He is also an adult. He should be allowed to make his own choice. His world may have need of him."

"That path is closed to him, Mr. Bel Iblis. The Republic has need of him."

"Master Ti. I have the utmost respect for the Jedi. I especially have the utmost respect for you. I can see the man that you have shaped before me. But, I think that he would be better served on Corellia, rather than bleeding his life out on some shithole of a planet for the greater glory of Sheev Palpatine and his ambitions."

"I do not disagree, Mr. Bel Iblis, as far as the need for the coming war. But Jedi ultimately serve the people of the Republic. He, and I will go where we are instructed; and ultimately, we are prepared to die in the service of those people. Not just for the people of the Five Brothers, but for a galaxy."

"Let us pray that it will not come to that, Master Ti. I don't want to see our sons and daughters, the cream of our youth, be they Jedi or citizen bleeding their promise out because a bunch of senior citizens can't iron out their differences any other way."

"On that we can be agreed, Procurator."

XXXXX

Taliesin Croft sits on his bed, trying to clean a knife wound on the back of his bicep. He throws the bacta pad on the bed in frustration, as he tries to center himself.

_Come on dumbass. You can't let the old bastard get to you. He is trying to unbalance you._

_He's doing a good job of it._

He thinks of his life and of his heritage. He knows that he is Corellian, but that is about it. He and Phygus Baldrick had talked about where they came from for years, throughout their lives at the Temple. On particularly bad days, especially for Baldrick, they had talked about what it would be like if they had not been found by Ky Narec.

_What would I be doing? Would I be a smuggler? A thief? A cop?_

He feels the presence of his Master coming into his cabin. He pulls his tunic to him, but she stays his hand. She turns him around on the bed and picks up the discarded bacta pad. She immediately starts to swab the knife wound down.

She also sends another calming wave through the training bond, as she tends his wounds. He recalls many times from missions when they have tended to each other's wounds and meditated together to calm and center themselves.

Or at least Shaak meditated. He usually just sat there with his eyes closed and tried not to fidget.

Master Ti finishes his repairs. She immediately, with only a slight smirk, picks up the bacta pad and begins to clean the scratches and scrapes on his back and shoulders.

She sees the flush that colors his skin as she cleans the other wounds.

She feels him flinch as she moves to work on a deep bite wound on his shoulder.

He says nothing as she completes his repair. _Thank you Master,_ he sends along the bond.

 _It is my honor, my Padawan to clean wounds gained in the service of good,_ is her reply.

Try as he might, he can detect no irony in her thoughts.

That comes next. _However, you will have to take care of your own wounds elsewhere on your body._

They both share a smirk.

She watches his face grow serious. "Master, I don't know if I am the right person to be here for these negotiations."

"Why is that, Taliesin?" she asks.

"I am struggling with my balance, Master. I am feeling a definite pull to my homeworld. Or at least to this part of my heritage."

"That is to be expected, Tal," she says. "you probably still have memories of this place. You were five years old when you left."

"Master, if we have time, may I explore Corellia? What I remember of it, and what I have read, it is a beautiful world."

She considers this. "Don't you think that these explorations might complicate your feelings, rather than assuage them?"

"I don't know, Master. I don't think that I will know until I go out there," he says, a pensive look on his face.

"I know that this will sound like I am avoiding your question, Taliesin," Shaak says, "but I think that you need to think on, or better yet, meditate on it before you decide."

His eyes are thoughtful. He nods. "Thank you, Master. As always, your insight is very helpful."

Ti nods. "That being said, whatever your decision is, if we have time, I wouldn't be averse to exploring your world with you."

The huntress' smirk grows. "That way I could be assured that you wouldn't be seduced by whatever pretty face happens to smile and spray you with pheromones."

His smirk matches hers. "I like to think that I was doing the seducing, Master."

"You keep thinking that, 'sport' if it keeps you warm at night."

They laugh together. His face takes on an innocent look. "But Master," he says, "who will guard your virtue?"

Without missing a beat, she says, "That ship jumped into hyperspace a long time ago."

Once again, the Master gets the last word, as Croft chokes.

XXXXX

A watcher sits on top of a building near the spaceport as passengers disembark from the huge liner. She watches for a particular couple of travelers, ones who are supposedly traveling incognito, but are as open to her as if they had flashing advert-signs on them. She does scan the crowd with macrobinoculars; her full lips smile when she sees at least one familiar face.

The Togruta Jedi and a young human male, of about the watcher's age, disembark from the ship and enter a small airspeeder with Corellian government markings. They are both still clad in civilian clothes

The watcher smiles. She pushes a button on her comm and marks the vehicle with a virtual sensor tag.

She pulls her hood over her shaven head and tattoos.

Asajj Ventress' smile turns more feral as she leaps from the building into the street below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Never Give a Sword to A Man Who Cannot Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Djem So in the sunlight.

**Corellia  
Coronet City**

Croft opens his eyes as a sharp electrical sensation pierces his brain behind his eyes. He had been trying to take his Master's advice and center himself. His eyes lock on Ti's; hers have flown open as well. They are sitting across from one another in the back of the covered airspeeder. They both tighten their restraints and begin to look in all directions.

The airspeeder shudders from an explosion on its right front quarter. The vehicle immediately begins to lose altitude in a clockwise spin. Ti and Croft ignite their lightsabers and quickly slice a circular hole in the ceiling. They both release their restraints. Croft Force-pushes the remaining metal in the hole up and away. Ti reaches out to the restraints of the driver and guard and yanks both of them through the hole as she and Croft leap away from the airspeeder. All four bodies clear the airspeeder before it craters into a busy street. The resulting explosion shatters windows and blows all four of the former occupants off course. Ti and Croft manage to control their own descent to the sidewalk, landing only with minimal bruising.

It is their control of the driver and guard in which they demonstrate their finesse. They each take one of the Corellians and bring down to a gentle stop just before landing; they deposit them in the grass of a small park.

The Jedi finesse is for naught, as the the driver is immediately slammed back to the ground by a crimson blaster bolt to his head. More of the red lines began to intersect with the ground and other passersby. Ti and Croft look at one another, then begin to deflect bolts as best as possible. Their technique turns the energy fusillade against their attackers. They can hear cries from others than among the innocent who have been struck.

Ti begins to look above the source of the blaster fire, to the highest levels. As she does, Croft's mind is lanced by a more insistent thrumming and electricity than before the attack. His mouth begins to taste of ashes, as his senses are assaulted by dark energy. His eyes also track to the top of the building before them. The blaster fire comes from several floors below the roof.

Master and Padawan look at one another, as they continue to block bolts. Suddenly, the incoming blaster fire is joined by replies from the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Croft sees several green and gray-clad figures running to open fire. A taller, older figure joins he and Ti with his own blaster. Draq' bel Iblis takes careful aim and with each shot strikes a hostile blaster wielder.

The two Jedi turn their attention to the ashes filling their senses. As blaster fire wanes, they see a figure leap from the roof and land in front of them. The hooded figure lands deftly and instantly unsheathes two red-bladed, curved-hilted lightsabers.

A pair of ice-chip blue eyes are visible from the hood. The figure advances towards the Jedi and their support. A CorSec officer fires, at the advancing figure, the bolt is easily deflected back to him; there is a resulting scream of agony.

"Advance your officers into the building to take care of the gunmen, Procurator," Ti says. "We'll handle the saber-wielder."

Draq' nods and signals to his officers. They immediately advance and fire on the building. Ti looks at Croft. "Tal," she says, looking at him directly. "No heroics. This is a darkside user. We stick together."

Croft's eyes are calm as he nods. "Yes, Master," he says. "You can count on me."

Ti smiles. "Always, Taliesin." They throw off their outerwear and advance. Croft shifts from his reverse-grip Shien to the more aggressive, Djem So dueling form.

They hear a vaguely hissing laugh from the figure. The figure starts to advance slowly, then leaps and comes down with both blades. As the dark adept descends, Croft gets a look at the figure. Though hooded, the body is visible and is definitely female.

The two crimson blades intersect with blue and green. Both Ti and Croft are able to hold the woman's blades at bay, but barely. The woman thrusts them back. Both charge and swing, feint and swing from each side. The woman parries both and leaps over them. The two Jedi backpedal and parry her downward slashes. Croft reaches out and kicks the woman in the ribs, as Ti thrusts towards her chest. The woman slips off-balance, but keeps her feet and bats Ti's thrust away, towards Croft. Croft is barely able to avoid the loss of a leg; instead Ti's saber slices into his left thigh in a shallow cut. He bites off a cry, but otherwise ignores it as he swings towards the woman's head. The tip of his saber rips the hood away from the woman's head, exposing her pale, icily beautiful face and tattooed, shaven head.

Her beauty is marred by the evil, twisted sneer on her full lips.

His scrutiny of her face ends when she whirls and kicks Ti in the face. She then directs her entire focused attack on Croft; her lightsabers slashing and whirling with maniacal power. He backpedals, parrying the attacks. He backflips away from the woman to regroup. As he sticks his landing, he immediately charges her and begins his own slashing attack.

He manages to get under her whirling blades; the tip of his blade slices across her ribs. He hears a hiss as she backpedals, as she does, she kicks outward with her right foot, striking him in the precise spot Ti's lightsaber had been deflected into his thigh. This time, he goes to his knees. She springs forward and slashes downward towards his head. He manages to parry one blade, but the other, trailing blade continues down.

A brilliant blue blade intersects with the blade inches from his head. He rolls to his right and comes up. Ti's nose is bleeding, but otherwise her eyes are clear and her lips are smiling with the challenge.

The woman backpedals again, holding her blades out. All three combatants are panting and sweat-soaked. A throaty laugh comes from the woman. A low voice, with a hissing sibiliance, says, "Not bad, Jedi scum. I would've thought you would've been encumbered with this overgrown youngling, Master Ti. But you have actually managed to use the thug."

 _Thug_?

_Now is not the time for banter, Taliesin, his Master sends through their bond._

_Come on Master, I had a great, snarky, Tano-worthy comeback._

_Not going to happen, young one. Save it and share it with me later._

Both Jedi begin to circle the dark adept. Her blades circle warily. Croft can feel Ti's readiness build. He opens himself fully to the Force and the link.

_Now, Tal._

They leap up and at the bald woman. As they come down, as if in a dance, Croft sees Ti stumble. She maintains her feet, but her attention is diverted for a microsecond. The woman's blades both strike at her sword arm.

"Master!" Croft screams. He reaches out to the Force and pulls Ti's feet towards him, causing her torso to move away from him and her sword arm to go up, as well as striking out at the dark adept with his own blade. He is able to disrupt the slice enough where the tips of the two blades only score a pair of shallow, parallel tracks along Ti's exposed ribcage.

Croft strikes at the woman again and again in a controlled fury of attack. The woman is forced back. She looks at him with fury and turns and leaps to the roof from where she came.

Tal looks back at his Master. She is rising to her feet and surrounded by CorSec officers. He makes a choice.

He turns and leaps up to the roof in pursuit.

He vaguely hears Ti cry out "No Croft! Stop! Don't pursue."

"Taliesin! Stop!"

XXXXX

_Now what?_

Croft catches a glimpse of long legs and pale skin running ahead of him, leaping from one rooftop to the next. His wounded leg burns, and he can feel moisture starting to drip down his leg from where the bald woman had kicked him, impacting the lightsaber's natural cauterization. He can see the woman breaking away from him.

He calls on all of his reserves of strength to move faster. He has never been the fastest Jedi around when it came to running. Even Force-sprinting came harder to him. He could outlast just about anyone--well maybe not that tiny ball of sass and energy known as Ahsoka Tano--but he came close.

_Well, there is more than one way to catch this witch. Can't run for shit, but I can jump._

So he does. Pain lances through his body as he Force-jumps ahead; covering more ground.

But, it is not enough. He is close, but not close enough to engage. His Force-sense screams as a water tower careens toward him. He manages to jump to his left to avoid it and the deluge. It throws his jump to the next building off. He is surprised by the gap between buildings.

Croft's upper arms manage to grab the lip of the roof. His right arm slips off, but he manages to hold on with his left. He hears a crunching noise from his shoulder as he manages to get his right arm up. As he climbs on the roof, his left arm hangs useless, the shoulder dislocated. He moves forward, his teeth clenched against the pain.

His Force sense screams and his lightsaber flies into his right hand from where he had thrown it - just in time to block two crimson blades swinging down on him. He is able to maintain his feet; he counters at the woman's head. She stretches back to avoid the swing.

They circle, both still panting. A nearly recognizable smirk plays over the woman's pale, sharp features. "You must really want me, darling, to pursue me like that," her low voice snarks. "Has it been awhile for you? Or better yet, are you a virgin? I wouldn't mind deflowering you, handsome, if I had the time."

"Well, you are the one that came back for me, sweetie. You put those sabers, down and I'll show you how much deflowering I need."

"I really don't think that you have the lightsaber to keep me interested."

"I do have references, if you need them, sweetie. But I do think that we have other things to attend to."

"Pity, handsome. I would relish a ride, if I had the time. I could teach you so many things."

"Already had my lesson this week, darling. A master class. Something tells me that it was less painful for me than your ride would be, especially with all that ice."

The woman sneers at that. "It will be a pity when I cut your head off. Or your balls," the dark woman says.

"Well, from what I can tell, that might be harder than you think."

_You do need to work on your banter, my young Padawan. Perhaps some remediation with young Tano. Master Kenobi might be able to help you as well._

_With all due respect, Master, please get out of my head._

The witch cuts off further conversation and thought with her lightsabers, whirling them in that maniacal way. He blocks her sabers; the resulting energy discharge heats their faces as they come close. He manages to thrust her away and slash at her ribs, giving her a matching slice on her opposite ribs.

They pull closer again, their blades struggling to overcome the other. Close enough for him to bring his forehead against her aquiline nose between the energy discharges. She jumps back in surprise. He pursues, cutting and slashing, his energy steady, but starting to flag.

"I would really love to continue this, darling, but I have more important things to do than you," the pale woman says. At that she turns and runs for the edge of the building. She leaps off into the street below.

He curses and follows her. He jumps.

And is struck broadside by an air car. His last sensation is of mocking laughter, moving away. He sees the woman waving to him as she rides another speeder away. His vision fades.

 

 

 


	8. Meddle Not In the Affairs of Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath

**Corellia  
Coronet City**

Taliesin Croft is conscious of water flowing steadily on his face, as he fights toward noise and light. With a concerted effort, he opens his eyes.

He stares into a small furry red face glaring at him, as he pours the contents of a water bottle on his face. His eyes track down the furry face's attached body. The small figure is standing over his chest--no, with one foot on his chest. Croft looks around and realizes that he is still laying on the hood of an aircar.

The same aircar that had struck him broadside. Struck him while chasing some witch of a dark adept. A witch that had struck his Master down.

He sits up and immediately regrets it. He does a quick run-down of his ills and hurts. _Thigh burns like fire. Bleeding. Lightsaber cut and blunt-force trauma. Can't move my left shoulder. Dislocated._

_Left chest feels like...._

_Like an _Akul_ -beast ran into me._

_More broken ribs._

_The Runt is never going to let me live this down._

_At least it is on the opposite side than the injury that her trophy inflicted on me during the Hunt._

He returns to his injury. As he does, the furry one stomps his foot on his right chest.

"I have called the authorities, you Corellian miscreant," he says in a pompous, aggrieved voice. "Hopefully they will take the word of a Drall and make you pay for the damage to my vehicle."

He searches his dim memory. A Drall. Resident of another of the Five Brothers. Long memories, great at theory, not as great on execution and practicality. Good natured and friendly.

_Not usually as pissy as this one._

_Okay. One more injury. Colossal pain in my ass standing on my chest and reading me the riot act about his vehicle._

"Your vehicle struck me. It shouldn't have been in my way when I jumped off of that roof."

"Do you realize how stupid that sounds?" the driver says. "How can I be responsible for thuggish Corellians falling from the sky?"

_Okay. I'll give you that. I am not at my best._

"Would it help, if I said I was on Jedi business? Chasing a terrorist who has harmed Corellian citizens?" Croft asks hopefully.

"You, a Jedi?" the Drall says.

He feels the Drall's foot lift from his chest. It lifts as the furry one falls to his back on the aircar hood. His laughter rings through the streets.

_Okay, I'll take that as a 'no."_

Croft takes advantage of the hilarity and pulls himself painfully to a sitting position. He looks around for his lightsaber.

He doesn't immediately see it. _Oh great. Here comes another 'this weapon is your life' lecture from Cin Drallig and Master Ti._

He starts. His eyes close as he remembers what had happened at the site of the attack. He hopes that Master Ti is able to give him that lecture. Thinking of his Master reminds him of something she told him, about finding a lost saber. Something more advanced than most Padawans could perform, if they were at least in close proximity to the blade.

His eyes close, as he visualizes his saber. The gold and purple hilt lies in a small bush. His world decreases to that tiny area...ahh. _Not that far at all._

His concentration is broken by the small being poking a furry, clawed finger in his chest. On the left side.

"You're no more Jedi than I am the Diktat of Corellia. You aren't even dressed like one. You had better be able to pay for this, you, you big thug."

_What the hell is it with that word? That is the third time somebody has called me that in the past hour. This little shit has used it twice._

_Could be the hair and beard, my young thug._ His heart twists as he feels the bright presence again through his bond. _Master_!

_I am here, Taliesin. I am fine. Bring yourself to me if you are able._

He ignores the Drall's rant. He looks at the angry little driver. He holds his uninjured arm out. He opens the hand. He feels the Force flow through him; the joy that he usually feels rises again, now that he knows Ti is able to communicate through their training bond.

The Drall is in mid-rant as Croft feels the slap of the lightsaber in his right hand. The saber that he had built on his own, with the approval of Dr. Huyang. The saber that had helped him gain the serene approval of his Master and other Masters who saw his potential. The saber that had helped him connect with the younglings of Clawmouse clan, especially a talented, snarky, energetic Togruta who looked on his clumsy attempts to instruct with a sarcastic Smirk. A Smirk that quickly turned to a look of excitement as she mastered the lightsaber moves he had taught her and the other younglings.

The Drall's eyes widen as he unsheathes the green blade. "You were saying, your Excellency? Do you think you might drop me off at my destination on your way to the Palace?"

_Not bad, my Padawan. You might just have redeemed yourself in young Tano's eyes._

XXXXX

Croft's new best friend, Lodhara, drives him up to Dedalin Square. They are both silent as they see the smoke and fire from the crashed airspeeder. The sheet and blanket covered forms. All too many.

Lodhara's dark eyes, that had been accusing earlier are glistening with tears as he drives up to a CorSec officer. The officer is about to tell him to turn around and go about his business when Croft holds up his sheathed lightsaber. The officer nods. He looks at Lodhara's eyes and clasps his small shoulder.

Croft exits the speeder. He turns to the Drall. He has searched his pockets for credits; he hands a meager pile to Lodhara. "I'm sorry about your vehicle, Lodhara. I'll see what I can get from the Jedi or the Corellian government for you."

"No matter, friend Taliesin. A few dents are a small price to pay compared to the spilt blood of yours and the broken bodies that lie here." He gently closes Croft's hands over the credits. He pulls a small flask. "Share a drink with me and we will call it even," he says.

Croft looks up at the CorSec officer watching them. The man smiles and turns his back. Croft accepts the flask and takes a large sip.

As his eyes uncross and he can breathe again, he hands the Drall the flask. Lodhara puts the mouth of the flask and takes a long pull. There is no visible effect.

As soon as he can speak, he asks, "What the hell was that?"

The Drall smirks. " _Nak_. Also known as the _Nectar of Memory_."

"Why? Because it kills the memory?"

"Ah, young Taliesin, you are too used to the watery mother's milk you and your Corellians call Whyren's Reserve. You need to drink a man's drink."

The CorSec officer has turned back to observe his reaction. He shakes his head at Croft.

Croft decides not to respond. He holds his hand out and takes the Drall's small hand in his. "Good luck Mr. Lodhara," he says.

"May your Force be with you, young Taliesin. Try to tell your other Jedi not to fall out of the sky before I can get to my lodgings."

He looks the Jedi squarely in the eye. "Find them," he says, simply. Taliesin nods.

The moment passes. "Besides. This is a rental. I'll come up with some story for the dent. I don't think that 'Jedi' is covered in the policy."

"Tell them to look under 'Croft," he says.

XXXXX

He closes his eyes and searches for that serene presence. The presence that has been a part of his life for over six years. The presence that has shaped him.

"Taliesin."

A voice not in his mind, but seated a few meters away on the back of a CorSec vehicle. Her top held up as a CorSec officer swabs the deep parallel cuts on her side with a bacta pad.

He maintains his dignity as a Jedi.

Ti, the most serene and calm of Masters, does not.

She rises, pulling her top down and walks over to him. She seizes him and brings him close to her shoulder. She strokes his head and speaks words in his ear. Togruti words that he can barely follow.

 _The words of a mother to her son, returning from the Hunt._ The words stop as she realizes what she is saying.

She releases him and regains her composure. He spares her. He holds his hands in front of him and bows deeply to her.

"It is good to see you well, My Master." He can see the smile in her eyes. A slight smile grows on her lips. She mimics his gesture.

"It is good to see you strong and well, my young Padawan."

The moment holds, but is broken as he senses something. Something he hasn't felt in a couple of days. First in a liner's restaurant.

Later in the arms of a beautiful woman.

His eyes widen as he looks at the CorSec officer who was attending his Master's wounds.

A beautiful woman with crimson skin and laughing eyes. Eyes that are a shade of dark purple, rather than the flashing black eyes of memory. A woman clad in the green trousers and gray tunic of a Corellian Security officer, a purple beret perched on her lustrous dark blue and brown hair, a holstered blaster on her hip.

The uniform fits just as snugly as the low-cut blouse and tight skirt that he had seen her in.

His trousers, which are now his sole set of clothes, since the destruction of their luggage in the airspeeder, and have seen better days, are just as snug as the other night.

He can feel his Master's smirk, as he fights the - _what did she call it-_ empathic resonance.

It doesn't help that she walks up to him and takes him in her arms and kisses him. Her hands track from his shoulders to his back to his....

He jerks away, as he remembers who is watching. Dani laughs and brings her hands back up to his shoulders, to his face.

The emotion that he feels through the resonance is not one of lust, as he expected. _Well a little bit._

It is one of raw relief. Relief at him being alive. She brings her arms to his sides and squeezes him hard. He winces. She starts to pull back and touch his ribs. He shakes his head at her.

Ti is suddenly right there. She looks him over. She sees the wound on his leg and the left arm hanging useless. She immediately takes charge.

"We need to get you to a medcenter, Tal," she says. He plants his good hand on her shoulder, pushing her away. "No Master, not this time," he says. "You are more seriously hurt. You are needed for these negotiations more than I am. You first."

"No, Croft. Obey me in this," Ti says, a hint of thunder in her tone and her expression. "This is your fifth set of broken ribs since you became my apprentice. Not even counting the ones on the Hunt."

"Master. I cannot. I am sorry. I must think of the mission in this," he says, a hint of apology in his voice, "I am your Padawan. I am merely here to protect you and to advise you, so that you can complete these negotiations."

A gravelly voice intrudes. "I am afraid that I must agree with your apprentice, Master Jedi," says Draq' Bel Iblis, in a voice that brooks no argument from entire worlds or singular Jedi. "If Corellia is to remain in the Republic, we will need both of your voices, together."

Croft can feel Ti's indecision through the bond. _I realize how you feel, my Master. I appreciate it. But you need your strength. I will carry out your wishes._

_Very well Taliesin. I am giving you permission to find your friend on this world--your former fellow Padawan--the trickster. Find the dark-acolyte and whoever is her contact._

_But make sure that your injuries are healed. Even the ones that you conceal from me._

He looks into Ti's eyes and nods. He watches as Dani takes hold of Ti, concern in her purple eyes. They walk towards a transport.

XXXXX

Draq' watches Croft's stricken face watch his Master walk to a medical transport; the young Zeltron cop supports her with care. He remembers the cause of her wounds. The stumble during the duel. He has never seen that before from Ti. She has always been sure-footed and graceful when dueling.

Draq' watches the emotions play over the young man's face. He watches him close his eyes. A sensation of the Padawan locking his legs and centering himself strikes the Corellian. When his eyes open, he looks Draq' in the eye. "Old man, you and I are going to have a talk when this is over. You sent a pretty face to see what she could get out of me. Me, a Jedi."

Draq' smirks. "I look forward to it, Junior. But first, let's save the universe. I am sure that your Master has given you instructions until she recovers."

"That's Jedi business, Procurator."

"Seems like it might be my business, as well, as I am trying to accomplish the same thing as you are."

"I might've been more inclined to share, if you hadn't sent your girl to try and kriff it out of me."

Draq's smirk rises as he looks behind him. Croft's eyes widen. "She's standing right behind me, isn't she?"

"She just might be. Unlike, you, she doesn't mind if I call her 'sport'."

Croft feels a warmth rise on his face. The warmth flows to his mind and heart. For an instant, his concern for Ti and his mission calms. A warm hand rests on his right arm. She walks up to his side.

He looks down at her. Her head barely comes to his shoulder. Her eyes glisten, as she takes his pain to her.

He shakes his head. "Dani, if that is your name, get out of my head."

She smiles. "I am not in your head, Croft. I aim a little lower. And no, not where you think, not that low right now." She places one hand over his heart.

He hears Draq' say, "That is why I keep her around. I could have any pretty face go to you and kriff your secrets out. You gave the appearance of being a typical walking, talking, Corellian gonad. She understood you and realized that she wasn't going to get anything out of you--that, as she said, 'you were deeper than that'. The rest of the night was all her. Which," he says with a glare at Dani, "we might have a conversation about, later."

Dani smirks, herself, but her laughing eyes belie the expression, "You don't pay me enough to have that conversation, Dragon."

He nods. "Maybe not, Junior. Maybe not."

Croft smiles. "Maybe not that deep, Daaineran."

'We'll see, Croft."

"If everyone is through with the display of foreplay, could we get on with the business at hand?"Draq' asks.

Croft's expression darkens, but he calms again. "Any idea who the gunsels were who opened up?"

"No. Not really. Some weapons had serial numbers. Registered to Onderon."

_A world that had already joined the Separatist cause._

"What about the woman that you let get away? Any ideas?"

Croft doesn't rise. "No, but that is my job, apparently."

Draq' nods. "If you find something that connects the Seps to this, I need to know."

"You might be the second to know; or the third, Procurator."

"Don't play with me, boy. My full title is the Procurator-Fiscal and External. That is a fancy way of saying that I can throw your ass off of this world, Jedi or not, without breaking a fucking sweat."

"Go ahead, Procurator," Croft says, his temper rising. "Then you can find your fucking conspiracy yourself. I can always go back to practicing lightsaber forms."

Draq' sobers. "I don't think that you will be going back to doing that, Taliesin," he says, softly.

Croft nods. He feels Dani's intake of breath.

"I think that both of you need to take a step back and quit trying to piss each other off. We all have people we care about, who have been hurt already. There are more going to be hurt in the coming months. I think that we need to do what we can to lessen the tragedy that is coming," Dani says.

 _Out of the mouths of Deputy Constables_ , Draq' thinks.

Draq' smiles an actual warm smile, rather than the reptilian one that built his life and reputation. "I guess that is another reason I keep you around, Deputy Faygan."

"Yeah, well, you might keep me around longer if you promote me, Procurator. But I know that you Corellians are tighter with credits than a Muun."

Draq' nods. "There is one more thing," looking at Croft and then giving a sideways glance to Dani.

Croft's eyebrows raise. He feels Dani caress his right shoulder.

With a quick move, Draq' grabs his useless left shoulder at the top with his left hand, and lower on the bicep with his right. He twists and pulls suddenly, jerking the shoulder back into its socket.

Croft is sure that the brief scream came from Dani.

_Nope, that was you._

The pain has actually eased.

Draq' looks at him and says. "Go get some rest, Tal. Tomorrow we'll find the good and do it."

XXXXX

Croft walks into his bedroom of the apartment that he and Ti will share. Dani closes the door behind her.

His expression changes to thunder. She covers the distance and places her fingers on his lips. "Don't worry, Taliesin, that is not what I am here for."

She starts to pull her tunic off. He starts to speak, but realizes that she is wearing a white shirt under the tunic. She pulls her boots, gunbelt, and trousers off and drops them on a chair. She is clad in her shirt and underwear, and incongruously, her socks.

He is able to keep his breathing under control. _Prove to her that you are an adult, who has gone through puberty. Not a 'walking, talking, gonad.'_

She walks to him. "Off with the pants and the shirt, so I can use this medkit."

He starts to smirk, but thinks better of it. She smiles. "You could've said it, Taliesin. It would've been okay."

"You can call me 'Tal," he says.

"No," she says. "I like your full name."

Later, she watches him sleep, his wounds dressed. She looks at the multicolored bruise on his left ribcage, with its grille pattern. She opens her resonance to him; she sends her own comfort and _yes, love_ into sleep. She feels the pain flow out of him, ever so slightly.

His face relaxes as she lays awake. Her own eyes grow heavy with the trauma of the day. She knows that if they don't succeed, there will be many more traumatic days ahead. _Maybe even if they do succeed._ Her last act before she sleeps is to send her own pain out of her body and away from both of them. She feels it dissipate as she sleeps.

 

 


	9. Look Back on the Perils of the Past and Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing; Echoes of the past threaten and aid the present.

**Corellia  
Coronet City**

Asajj Ventress enters the small lodging in the industrial district. She enters alone, as all of the scum that she had hired to carry out the attack were most probably dead.

That was by design.

They were only means to an end. They and the few weapons that she had provided, should be enough to convince the stubborn citizens of this world that the Republic could not protect them.

She places her lightsabers on the dresser and removes her top. The matching wounds on opposite sides of her ribs had scored deep. A smile plays across her full lips. She would repay the smartassed Jedi thug in kind.

Although, the speeding aircar may have already done that for her. Pity. She would have enjoyed watching the mocking light go out of his eyes as she twisted her saber in his chest.

That would be a hell of a ride.

The vibrating of her comm draws her attention. That particular comm is only connected to one being in the universe.

Her Master.

She pulls her top back on and steadies herself. She activates the comm.

"Greetings my Master." She bows.

"Are the Jedi dead, yet, child?" Count Dooku asks, without ceremony.

She steels herself. "Not yet, my Master. They are both injured, but will soon be dead."

Dooku's eyes narrow on the holo. "Why are they not dead? Master Ti is a fierce duelist, I know. But surely after all of my training, you could handle a Jedi Consular and an unexceptional Padawan."

_Unexceptional_?

"The two of them together were stronger than I anticipated. Corellian Security and that meddler Bel Iblis arrived too quickly and were too powerful for the second-rate mercenaries that you provided."

Her throat starts to constrict. "Be careful in assigning blame, my apprentice. If you had finished your part and slaughtered the two Jedi, we would not be concerned about the quality of mercenaries."

He lets her choke for another moment. Finally, he releases her.

She draws as much breath into her lungs as she can. The taste of ashes is strong in her mouth.

The same taste that she senses when she is kneeling in front of Dooku, the smell of her burning flesh permeating her nostrils, as the Force-lightning played across her pale skin.

"My apologies, Master. I failed. The Jedi live. I place myself at your mercy," she chokes out.

His eyes actually soften. "No matter, child. The death of Jedi are desirable always, but secondary to my Master's goals. Disruption and the Five Brothers joining our cause is still the ultimate goal. How does that effort fare?"

Asajj purses her lips. "My contacts continue to spread a desire for Corellia to join the Confederacy. They feel that the Diktat and the Senator are moving towards that response."

"However, the father, Draq' Bel Iblis is opposed to this, with every fiber of his being. He is not as enamored of the Republic, but he is opposed to joining our cause."

"He is only one man. Surely our allies can overcome his influence," Dooku muses.

"They have been trying for forty years, my Master. He is too powerful and too smart for them."

"Then have them kill him."

She smiles. "They have tried that, as well."

"Then do it yourself, child."

"Is that wise, my Master, killing him overtly?"

"My dear, you are an assassin. I am sure that you can be discreet. No matter. Remind our 'allies' of the consequences of their failure. Of the information that we have that could end their machinations."

"Yes, my Master." Asajj says.

"Do not fail me, my child. I would not want to choke you until the light goes out of your beautiful eyes."

The taste of ashes returns. "Yes, my Master."

The transmission ends. She closes her eyes and thinks of the journey to this point. A journey of pain and death and slavery.

A journey that could be entirely laid at the feet of the Jedi.

She thinks of the Togruta. Of the smartassed Corellian. She thought of the sync of the two--Master and Padawan.

She thinks of the love that she saw between them as they fought together and protected each other. The intensity with which the Padawan had pursued her after she struck his Master down.

She thought of another Master and a young girl on a hell of a world. Bringing justice to those who had never known it.

She thought of the death of that Master. Of the young girl's descent into madness and pain. All of it the fault of the Order that abandoned him.

She shakes the few tears from her eyes. _No matter the love they have, the respect. I will end it and them._

She reaches for another comm. Time to put their end in motion.

XXXXX

**Bel Iblis Cantonment**

The taste and smell of bacta assault Shaak Ti as the water of the shower cleanses the medicine from her body. She touches the healing scars on her side; there is only a slight twinge of pain remaining after her night in bacta.

She plays the fight over in her mind. And over again. Her mind always goes straight to her stumble that nearly cost her an arm at the least.

Her Padawan's quick thinking had changed that outcome. _It's supposed to be the other way around. I am supposed to guard him; to save him from his mistakes._

_No Master_ , a voice interjects into her consciousness. _We guard each other._

She is not sure if the voice was his through their training bond, or her own consciousness.

She turns and allows the scalding steam to play over her hip and leg.

She smiles as she feels a bright consciousness enter the room. She turns towards the door of the shower; she sees a distorted dark shape in the glass.

She turns the shower off and opens the door.

Deputy Constable Dani Faygan stands there, a very large fluffy towel held out. She is clad in her uniform pants and a tank top. Her crimson skin is vivid against the gray of the top. Ti smiles. "I think that you have the wrong room, Dani. My Padawan and his hormones are located in the other room." Ti walks into the towel; Dani rolls her up into it and holds it around her.

Dani smirks. "I've already been there. Last night. I thought that I would come for some experience."

Ti matches her smirk. "I have negotiations to get to, Dani. Otherwise, if I had time, I would teach you a few things."

Dani doesn't miss a beat. "I am sure that you would; I would welcome that. Maybe after this is all over?"

Shaak smiles, but says nothing. She is conscious of Dani's warmth on the other side of the towel as the girl rubs the towel over her, drying her.

Dani notices her shift. "Actually, your apprentice sent me to you."

_My Padawan and I have to have another talk about boundaries._

"No, no--not for that," Dani says, seeing her expression.

"Alright, then. For what?" Ti says.

"Apparently, I helped him with pain and healing last night. I guess I was a comfort to him. He felt like I could open my empathy to you; help you heal."

Ti's eyes sting. _My Padawan always surprises me with his depth._

Ti turns to Dani and smiles again. "He might be right. I am already feeling better just in the time we've been speaking."

"What do I have to do, Dani?"

"Nothing, Master. Just come over and sit with me on the couch. I'll let the resonance do its magic and hopefully take some of your pain away."

Ti wraps the towel around herself and walks to the couch. Sitting there next to her seat, is a cup of her favorite tea.

_Taliesin Croft, you continue to amaze me._

She sits next to Dani, their shoulders touching. As she sips her drink, she can feel the sense of warmth and well-being flowing through the small bit of contact. She closes her eyes, just for a moment.

Dani smiles, takes the cup from her fingers and swings the Master's legs up on the couch. She looks down on the Master and finishes the tea. She reaches down and kisses the Togruta's forehead markings.

XXXXX

Croft stands before a non-descript house and gathers his strength to enter the past. His past. A sign near the door proclaims that the visitor is about to enter _Covenant House._ No other indication that this was the sanctuary for unwanted lives. For children on a last chance for care and comfort and love. He smiles as he thinks once again about what his life would be like if he had never left here; if Ky Narec had not found him and taken him to the Temple.

_Probably doing the same thing I am doing now, just without the stylish robes and the training in using my gift._

Wearing a green and gray uniform. _For Corellia._

This house was not just an orphanage. For those who showed no special aptitude for a certain kind of work; they were housed here, fed, loved, and comforted. A rigorous fostering and adoption program was in place. For those that might have special skills, found through rigorous testing, they would still be housed, fed, loved, and comforted. Their skills would be developed until they reached the age of choice; they could choose to continue their training, or enter the adoption and fostering program.

Those who stayed served the people of Corellia and their security.

The watchword was choice. Choice to follow a path. Choice to leave it.

Draq' Bel Iblis had started his life of service here.

Ky Narec had taken Croft away from all of that. Covenant House had no way to train Jedi or Force-sensitives and users.

Croft smiles as he feels the Force-presence of one who returned. Of one who was cast out from another life.

He presses the doorbell.

A small child answers and looks at him with wise, knowing eyes. "I'm here to see Mr. Baldrick."

"Who?" the small being asks.

"Someone who is almost as short as you are, but you could probably take in a fight. He is an old man."

"Oh. Phygus. Why didn't you say so?"

Croft fights hard to keep a smile and an eyeroll off of his face, as the child takes him into the house. He is led downstairs to another blank door. He enters through the door and is immediately surrounded by computer and electronic equipment. Some of it actually legal.

A small being, this one a few years older than Croft, stands on a stool, looking at several monitors and working on several datapads simultaneously. A pair of earbuds supplies a constant steam of information to his ears. Information in the form of very bad heavy metal music.

He sees the man's eyes open as his rusty senses reach out to Croft. A smile crosses his lips; immediately replaced with a smirk.

"You know," he says. "I am very important. I could have you thrown out."

Croft smirks himself. "Yes, but I could carry you out in my pocket and no one would be the wiser."

"Yes, you could. Because there is probably enough space in your pants for me to fit, needledick." The wee man takes his earbuds out.

"Yes, there is the sensitive and tactful Phygus Baldrick that Mace Windu and Jocasta Nu fell for," Croft says.

Baldrick turns, remains on his stool. Croft walks over and clutches the troll tightly to him. Baldrick returns the embrace. "How the hell are you, little brother?" Phygus says. "I've missed you, Tal."

"I have missed you, too, Phygus."

"How's the Temple? How's that hot Master of yours?"

"Phygus - stop that." Croft tries to concentrate on anything other than the idea of his Master as 'hot.'

"What? You know you've thought of her like that. My Master looked like a shriveled up prune with the same disposition. You got the luck, man, not only in looks, but personality, as well."

"Little man, I am remembering what I didn't miss about you. I think that I may pound you in the ground for that."

Baldrick sees his look. He smirks, but he backs off. "Okay, okay. I'll drop it."

He sobers. "I know. I shouldn't speak of her like that. She went to bat for me when no one, not even my own Master did. She didn't have to and she paid a price for it. I am sorry."

Croft nods. "I'm sorry, too, Baldrick."

"What for, Tal? That you are still in the Order and I am not? That life was made for you, Tal. I am a misfit wherever I go. Here, I can stay down here and nobody bothers me. Yeah, I have to wear pants to work, but that is a small price to pay. Sometimes the Dragon comes down here and checks up on me, but that is it."

"Speaking of man-crushes, Bel Iblis sure thinks a lot of you, Croft. He's had me running every bit of info that I could find on you during your time with the Jedi."

_That's interesting to know. Disturbing, but interesting._

"Any idea why?"

"Nope. Didn't ask."

"Thanks for looking out for me, little shit."

"Tal, I am sure that you aren't spending your precious time on the Elder Brother coming to visit little old me. For one, I'm surprised that the Jedi are letting you talk to me," Baldrick says.

"Ti gave me permission. She is...indisposed."

Baldrick nods soberly. "Meaning she is hurt. Is she okay?"

Croft purses his lips. "She is healing. A couple of lightsaber cuts."

"What about you? What is healing on you?"

"A lightsaber cut on my leg and a dislocated shoulder are healing."

"Is that all?" Baldrick asks expectantly.

Croft is silent.

"Come on, Croft. Spill."

"I may have been hit by a car."

"Go on. Give me the money hit."

"Okay. I may have a couple of broken ribs," Croft says, closing his eyes.

"Yes! Too bad I left the Order. The "Croft Broken Rib Pool" was golden for me. Even before that crazy-assed little Togruta used you for bait in that kitty-hunt you and Ti were so fond of." Croft's eyes fall. "After I left," Baldrick finishes.

"A Jedi doesn't gamble," Croft says, in a pompous tone of voice.

"Oh, yeah, I am thinking that the perfect Padawan spent a great deal of time in Level 1313 raking the cash in at Sabacc."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Baldrick looks at him. "You mentioned that Ti and you were both hit by lightsabers. I am assuming that you didn't do it to each other."

"Nope. That's why I am here. We ran into a dark-side Force user. She was working with some gunsels."

"Yeah, I heard about the firefight. How many dead?"

"Twenty civilians and cops dead. About fifty wounded. Fifteen scumbags dead. No captures."

"Any thing you can give me on the Force user?"

"Tall, female. Near-human or human. Very pale skin. Shaven head and tattoos on her head and face. Blue eyes. Kind of a hissing voice."

"Would you do her?" Baldrick asks.

Croft is silent. "I think that she might meet your standards. She was breathing. But the two red lightsabers might discourage you. She did threaten to cut my balls off."

"She kicked your ass, didn't she?"

"It was a draw. I marked her."

"Good." Baldrick says. "Anyone that is with people who open fire indiscriminately on civilians should get marked at least."

"I have heard something about a new player in the Coronet City underworld. There is a gang--spice gang, protection, what have you--that have misplaced several of their soldiers in the last two days or so. About fifteen or so."

"Sounds promising, Phygus. Can you look into it? A lot is riding on this."

"Sure thing, little brother. Tell me something, Croft."

"Anything I can, big brother."

"Is war coming?"

There is a pause.

"Yes. Phygus. I think that there is."

"The Jedi will be right in the middle of it, right?"

Croft looks down. In a small voice, he says. "Yes."

Baldrick looks down himself.

"Tal?"

"Yeah?"

"Please be careful. You're the closest thing I have to family."

The two men look at each other.

"I will, Phygus. I will."


	10. For You are Crunchy and Taste Good with Ketchup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dragon bites.

**Bel Iblis Cantonment**

Shaak Ti sits at a large conference table alone. She considers their mission, but mostly she thinks about her Padawan. His compassion and his concern for her. The conflict that she can sense raging in him at their mandate from the Council if they cannot convince the Corellians to remain in the Republic.

_By any means necessary._ Since when did Jedi use 'any means necessary'?

She shakes her head as the object of her thoughts walks into the room. Like her, Croft is wearing borrowed clothes. Clothes that have no relation to their Jedi robes and their identity. He is clad in an incongruous business suit. If she didn't know any better, he could be any functionary in this building. A young bureaucrat or diplomat.

Except for the leather belt that encompasses his hips. A belt studded with the teeth of a predator. A predator from her world and his adopted heritage. Except for the device hanging from that belt.

A device that speaks to another heritage.

_My Taliesin,_ she thinks. _A mass of contradictions and heritages._

For not the first time, she wonders if exposing him to her heritage and the Hunt on Shili, had been the best path for him. He had excelled at and survived everything that had been thrown at him (including the whirlwind that was his hunt-sister, young Tano).

But so many lives and so many heritages. A son of Corellia and of Mandalore. Two heritages that were not mutually accepting of each other. The Hunt-culture of Shilli.

Looming over them all, and overwhelming them all - the life of a Jedi. Chosen for him at an early age because of his biology. Or his soul, depending on which school of thought you believed.

She pushes these thoughts away and rises. Her face is split by the calm smile that is for him and his accomplishments. As well as his challenges.

"So, you decided to send a Zeltron to take care of your Master's needs, my young Padawan."

He has the good sense to blush. Deeply.

"Well, it seemed like the thing to do at the time, Master."

"The comfort was much appreciated. Dani helped considerably with the management of the pain of my wounds. I also feel more rested than I have in a long time. Thank you, my Padawan."

She looks at him with as straight a face as she can manage. "I think that after this is over, she and I may be exploring some other needs."

Croft closes his eyes, as he tries to think about anything other than that. Master Windu in a tutu. Chancellor Palpatine and Master Windu in tutus performing in a Naboo ballet. He opens his eyes to her smirk.

_Great. My Jedi Master has just implied that she has sex._  
  
They both grow serious. He sits next to her at the table, as they wait for the other participants in this dance.

"Master, what is our strategy?" Croft asks. "I have been looking into the darksider; Phygus may have a lead with a criminal gang."

Ti nods approvingly. "I think that the only thing that we can do right now, is listen to them. But Taliesin," she says with a direct look at him "you must be mindful of the fact that you are not Corellian during these negotiations. You are a Jedi."

After a moment, he nods. "I understand, Master. I won't let you down."

His earnestness brings a smile to Ti's face. "You never have, Taliesin. You never have."

XXXXX

A younger Dragon walks into the room. Ti and Croft rise. The man that stands there contemplating them, can be no one else than a son of Draq' Bel Iblis.

_Though he still has a long way to go before he is the Dragon of Corellia,_ Croft thinks. 

_Be charitable, my young Padawan,_ comes a strong voice in his head. 

_Damned training bond._

Garm Bel Iblis, representative of the Corellian Sector in the Galactic Senate, stands tall. He has the same commanding presence as his father, but at a slightly lesser height. The eyes, with the same steely gaze, albeit in brown,look over them. His lips, half hidden by a brown mustache, quirk upward with humor that reaches his eyes, especially when those eyes light on Croft.

He is a relatively young man. He is only a dozen or so years older than Croft, but already a veteran of those dozen years spent in the rough and tumble world of galactic politics.

A world spent in opposition from the beginning to the selection and increasing power of one Sheev Palpatine of Naboo.

He enters the room fully. He bows to Master Ti and takes her hand. "Welcome to Corellia, Master Jedi. I am glad that you are safe and well after the unfortunate attack. Please, take as much time as you need to enjoy our world and heal."

Ti bows. "Thank you, Senator. Yours is a beautiful world. I wish we were visiting under more pleasant circumstances."

Garm nods soberly. "I know. We are living in trying times. I hope that the Republic can survive this crisis."

He turns to Croft. "So this is my fellow Corellian that I have heard so much about. My father, who is not impressed by many people, speaks very highly of you and your skills."

Croft shakes his hand and bows. "Thank you, Senator. I owe whatever skills that I have to my Master, who has shaped me and taught me. While I am a Corellian by birth, my most important heritage is that of a Jedi Padawan."

Ti smiles. _Well, you didn't waste anytime, Tal. You put that right out there._

Bel Iblis looks at him. "Well said, young Croft. My father also said that you were plain-spoken and that you know exactly where you stand."

The Senator walks to the chair next to the Jedi. He sits and turns toward them. "I know that my father has made his position clear. He feels that our destiny lies with the Republic and not the Separatists. I am not as convinced, as long as Sheev Palapatine is the Supreme Chancellor. I have watched his power grabs over the last ten years of his Chancellorate. This Military Creation Act is only the latest attempt to cram a standing army down the member worlds' throats."

Ti speaks up. "Thank you, Senator, but I really do need to hear all of the opinions of the people of the Five Brothers. However, I also have already seen first hand in your streets the lengths that one side is willing to go to push their views. My Padawan and I are recovering. About twenty of your people will never recover."

"Master Ti, there is no evidence that the Separatists were behind that attack. Our indications are that criminal elements were at play."

"Criminal elements acting in concert with a darkside Force user," Ti calmly asserts.

"Are you sure that it was a Force-user? It could've only been a thug with a couple of lightsabers," Bel Iblis says.

Ti does not rise to his words. She sends a sharp look at her apprentice, who is starting to rise. "My apprentice and I barely were able to keep her from harming anyone else. We felt that darkside of the Force rolling off of her in waves."

"Yes, Master Jedi, but we only have your word for that...."

"Her word is good enough for me, Garm," a quiet voice says from the door.

The quiet authoritative voice of a true Dragon. "I was there. I watched that woman deflect a bolt into the face of one of our officers, as well as engage two Jedi in a lightsaber duel."

He walks in and sits down next to Croft. He nods at the apprentice and the Master. His son purses his lips.

"Yes, _Procurator_. We know your opinion. But the facts are not all in on this attack. We don't know who perpetrated it."

"One of my best young officers, as well as this apprentice here are looking into that."

Another voice is added to the mix, as two young men walk into the room. Both around the same age, a few years older than Croft, both with similar looks. One, the slightly taller of the two, with pale blue eyes and a shaven head, is the owner of the voice. "From what I can tell, the 'apprentice' seems only interested in what is between your 'young officer's' legs."

Draq's expression is thunderous, as is Garm's. The Dragon speaks very deliberately. "Master Ti, Padawan Croft. Please allow me to introduce my nephews, Rasteen and Garen Blackthorn. They are most probably here representing their mother, Mailyn Blackthorn."

"The taller of the twins, the one with a bad case of running off at the mouth in the presence of his betters is Rasteen. The smarter, quieter one is Garen."

"Please pay them no mind. They have no standing here, only an accident of genetics. You see, this is the dirty little secret of Corellia. These two are the remaining blood of our Elder House. Their father was the last heir to the Electoral Signet before he had the good sense to divorce their mother and renounce everything."

Croft senses Ti's tension as he sits next to her. Draq' looks at her and silently shakes his head slightly.

Rasteen shows that the Dragon is right. "I don't know why I have to listen to you, Bel Iblis. You aren't even related to us by blood. How you got to be head of the Electoral Council is beyond me.

His twin, Garen, smirks, but has the good sense to lay his hand on his brother's arm.

Draq' does not back down. He stands "I got there, boy, because the other members trust me to do what is right for the House and for the Five Brothers, unlike your mother, the Hag, who is only out for her prestige."

Rasteen's fists clench. The Dragon continues to prove why is he is the Dragon of Corellia. "Every day I see you two, or at least, you, Rasteen, I find it hard to believe that you share the genetics of my brother-in-law. One of the finest men I have had the privilege of knowing. Hard to believe that you are the offspring of Styn Blackthorn."

"The other thing that I wonder is why the hell he couldn't have pulled out a second earlier."

Rasteen's eyes bulge as he turns towards the old man. Without thinking, Croft rises and stands next to Draq'. Ti looks at him with fire in her eyes. _Sit down, Croft. Now._

Garm Bel Iblis diffuses the situation. "Rasteen. You are only here as a representative of your mother, who sits on the Electoral Council. You have no standing in this meeting. Sit down and shut up or I'll have you removed."

Garm turns to his father. "As for you, Procurator. Try to keep from insulting everyone in the meeting before we even start. Try to remember that you are also Corellia's chief diplomat."

Ti and Croft look at both of them. The test of wills. Draq' finally nods. He again sits next to Croft. Croft follows him.

Ti's expression is calm again, but she looks at her apprentice. _We will speak of this, Taliesin._

Croft closes his eyes.

Rasteen and Garen sit across the table. Rasteen glares at the elder Bel Iblis. Garen seems to be calculating, as he watches everyone.

Garen looks at the two Jedi. "Welcome to Corellia, Master Jedi. Although for one of you, I take it is not your first time here."

Rasteen smirks. "Yes. The half-breed. I don't know if you can actually call yourself Corellian, as your blood has been diluted by Mandalorian scum."

Croft looks at the brothers. His Master tenses. "I don't call myself much of anything. My Master calls me 'Padawan'. She calls me a few other names in Togruti, the language of her birth. But mostly I prefer 'Jedi.' Especially since my Master, who has taught me many things, including manners, would disapprove if I called you an Ensterite piece of shit."

Everyone tenses. Except for Draq' Bel Iblis. He seems to be enjoying himself.

"So I won't call you that."

Garen smirks. Rasteen looks at Croft and says, "I think that you are very bold, boy. Hiding behind the Togruta barbarian, as well as a Dragon."

Ti looks at Rasteen. "Mr. Blackthorn. In spite of the fact that you have insulted my Order, my heritage, and my Padawan, I will tell you this. You apparently don't know my Padawan. He hides behind no one. He will not engage you, but it is not because he is hiding. It is because he is a Jedi and he owes obedience to his Order and to his Master."

"But," she continues, a hard look coming to her violet eyes. "He is my Padawan and my responsibility. If I feel that he is threatened in any way, I will take whatever action that I deem necessary to protect him. Just, as I feel that he will do for me, even if I don't ask him to."

"Such is the word of the Togruta barbarian, as you call me."

Draq' looks at Ti. He reaches across Croft and holds out his hand. She takes it, a look of understanding passes between them.

"Well, said, Master Ti," Garm Bel Iblis says. "Rasteen, you may leave. This is not how we treat guests on Corellia. I don't care if they go against your narrow Ensterite beliefs; your intolerance for anyone outside of your little enclave. Garen, if you can be quiet and state your case with respect, on behalf of your mother, then you may stay."

Rasteen blanches and starts to protest. Draq' stands up. "You are in my house, little boy. Get up and leave or I will throw you out myself. I won't call anyone to do it for me."

The Dragon look is palpable as he stares down the young man. Garen turns to his brother and jerks his head. Rasteen musters as much dignity as he can and stands. He turns and walks out of the room.

The tension in the room releases as the door closes.

"Well, now that all of the hot air has left, perhaps we can get down to business," Draq' says.

"Garen, I am sure that your mother has an opinion on this. As much as she and I don't see eye to eye, she does have a right to have a say."

The quieter of the twins looks at the table. "Thank you, Uncle Draq'. It is my mother's opinion as a member of the Electoral Council, that we should withdraw from the Republic completely and cast our lot with the Confederacy of Independent Systems."

He takes a sip of water. "She feels that the inertia and corruption of the Republic Senate; the power grabs of the Supreme Chancellor are enough to justify this secession."

Croft watches the play of emotions on Draq's face. The Dragon maintains his calm. "So your mother, who has actually no authority is going to advocate for leaving the Republic in favor of joining a bunch of systems who are aligned with some mysterious ex-Jedi?"

"You did ask, Uncle Draq'."

"What of the attack on our people by a possible agent of the Separatists?"

"We only have the word of these two Jedi that there was anyone other than a criminal involved," Garen says smoothly.

Croft starts to speak. The touch of a ghost-hand on his arm is enough to stop him. Ti says, "What of the lightsaber wounds on our bodies, or the dead officers killed by deflected blaster bolts? Did we imagine those? Did my apprentice chase a 'gangster' across rooftops, risking his life to capture this 'gangster'?"

Garen smiles, in what he probably thinks is charm. "We only have your word for this, Master Jedi. There is no proof."

"There was a time, Mr. Blackthorn, that a Jedi's word was good enough on a world of the Republic."

"That time has passed," says a new voice.

A tall, icily beautiful woman walks into the room. Garm and Garen rise. After a moment, Ti and Croft echo the move.

Draq' Bel Iblis is conspicuous by his refusal to rise. "Hello, Hag. Master Jedi, please meet my ex-sister-in-law. A woman more venal and grasping you'll never meet."

Ti and Croft look at one another. The tension in the room rises again.


	11. A Choice Between Where You Should Be and Where You Want To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A choice is made.

**Bel Iblis Cantonment**

Mailyn Blackthorn - the Hag of the Blackthorn family - the Elder Family of Corellia surveys the assembled group. She glances over Shaak Ti without comment. Her eyes fall on Croft and widen slightly, as if in recognition.

Shaak looks at Draq'. He stands up. "Hag," he says. "I think that you and I need to talk."

She ignores him, turning to Garm instead. "Garm, you know my thoughts on the whole thing. Garen has articulated my position. The Separatists represent the future; the Republic is the past of Corellia."

She continues to stare at Croft, as if mesmerized. "You look so much like him," she says quietly.

Croft's eye widen as he hears her words. "Who? Who do I look like?" he asks.

The door opens. Dani Faygan steps into the room in full uniform. She moves quickly over to Draq' and whispers urgently into his ear.

"I think we will continue this at a later time. Constable Faygan has informed me that she has finally cracked those fake cops from the liner."

He turns to Ti. "We need to talk, right now. Dani, take Croft somewhere, anywhere. Make sure he is safe."

Shaak's eyes are on Croft. His anger is rising. "Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

Draq' ignores him. "Garm, can you please hold off on any action until I get back?"

"Now hold on, Dragon," Garen starts. "What the hell is going on?"

Garm Bel Iblis, Senator of Corellia comes to a decision. "You have one hour to come clean with me," he says to his father.

Dani grabs Croft's sleeve and pulls him from the room. Draq' and Shaak leave the room.

The Hag, her son, and a Senator are left stunned.

XXXXX

Draq' shepherds Ti into an office. "What is going on, Procurator?"

He smiles. "I figured I needed to get you and Tal out of there. Dani does have information for us. It seems like the thugs on the liner were hired to attack Croft."

"We figured that," Ti says.

"He was supposed to be attacked. They didn't know he was a Jedi. They had orders to attack and seriously injure him because of who he was. Dani got on to them; she had been tracking them because I put her there to watch yours and Croft's backs."

"Why would they attack a Jedi Padawan?" Ti asks. "They had to know that this would not disrupt the negotiations."

"I know," Draq' says simply. He takes a deep breath and looks directly at Ti.

"It may be because of who he is for Corellia."

"His background,"says Ti.

"Yes. You heard the Hag. She recognized him, even with the beard and hair. She recognized the threat to her sons and their position."

"You think she tried to have Croft attacked?" Ti asks.

"I don't know. But if you want to keep him from finding out anything about his heritage, we may have to sit on him. Otherwise he will find out, or he will be killed."

"Or both."

XXXXX

"Dani, dammit, would you stop dragging me along?" Croft asks in exasperation.

"No." she says simply. She pulls him towards a speeder.

He digs his heels in, just before she can get him in. "I am not going anywhere, until you tell me what the hell is going.... _Yeeooww_."

She digs her hand into a muscle near his spine. He collapses to his knees. She drags him into the speeder. He is limp and cannot move.

Croft is aware of the sky passing above him as the speeder moves away from the Cantonment.

He is aware of the passage of time, but nothing beyond that. He feels the speeder stop. He hears and feels a door open near him. His Master is looking down at him. She pulls him effortlessly to his feet and supports him as they walk into a nondescript building. His eyes fall on a sign by a door. A sign that begins to trigger a memory. Ti looks at him and runs her hands over his eyes, closing them.

XXXXX

He is only out for a brief time, he knows. As he comes back to himself, he can feel the anger rising. He does not try to tamp it down. Much.

His eyes open. He is sitting on a ratty couch in Baldrick's little cave. A conference of dragons, teachers, and caretakers is taking place.

Dani is the first to notice that he is with them. She smiles her warm smile, gets up and walks over to him.

He is having none of it, as he remembers the dagger of her hand digging into his spine. This memory is much more vivid than the one of her hands moving over his body in another way.

She doesn't let him off of the hook. She pulls him to his feet and wraps her arms around him. Her lips touch his gently. In spite of himself, her touch moves through him.

He looks at the other two - the Dragon and the teacher. The Dragon is of course, smirking as he watches Dani.

The teacher's eyebrow markings are merely raised more to her headdress.

He gently pushes Dani away. "I don't know if I am pissed at you or not, Constable."

"Don't rightly care if you are or not, Padawan. I am still going to care, whether that means me turning you inside out, or paralyzing you."

He takes them all in. "Could someone tell me what this farce is all about?"

Ti looks at him. "We felt that you were in danger; that we needed to get you someplace safe to figure out our next move."

"I am assuming Master, that by 'we' you are actually including me in my own defense?"

"Always, my young apprentice. But, we also had to move quickly and take into account your own innate stubbornness and unwillingness to listen."

_Point taken, my Master._

She smiles - that warm smile for her student.

He looks at Draq'. "What are y'all trying to hide from me? What did that woman - the one that you call the Hag mean when she said 'that I looked just like him?"

Ti looks at Draq'. "You can't keep this from him, Master. You have to let him make his own choice, " he says.

She thinks of her Padawan; of an Order that has instructed them to basically go against the tenets of the Jedi, by undermining a sovereign government's ability to make a choice.

_By any means necessary._

She thinks of the choice that they would have denied this world, if allowed. The feeling of betrayal that has been nagging at her since she and Taliesin arrived on Corellia.

Betrayal of what she is. Of what Taliesin was meant to be.

She makes her choice.

She nods at Draq'. They share a look.

A parent's look.

"Come with me, Taliesin," he says quietly.

All of them move quietly out of Phygus' space. They walk through a corridor and up a set of broadening stairs, into the anteroom that Croft had been greeted in. They enter a small parlor off of the greeting space.

Draq' guides Taliesin to the far wall. To a large portrait. A portrait of a man in a business suit. Ti starts; he can hear her intake of breath.

He looks at the face in the portrait. The face of a man standing to take on a universe. The portrait captures the easy grin. A grin tinged with just a hint of a smirk at the universe and all that it can throw at him.

He finds that he is not breathing. Dani walks next to him and takes his healing arm in hers as she looks up at the portrait.

He concentrates on the face. A face that he would see every day before his skill as a Shadow required a different face.

Every day in the mirror.

There are subtle differences. Warm gray eyes that can turn to steel, rather than green. The darker hair.

But the stubbornness is there in both.

He turns to Draq'. "I guess that this makes you my Uncle."

"Guess so. That is my brother-in-law. Jamestyn Blackthorn. The last heir to the Electoral Signet of Corellia. I knew him as Styn."

"Is the Hag, my mother?"

Draq' snorts. "Oh, gods, no. I would've drowned you at birth myself if there was another spawn of that woman around."

Croft smirks at that. "Plus, where did you think that you got that streak of Mando belligerence from?" Draq' continues.

Ti laughs gently at that.

"What does this mean?" Croft asks. He can feel his Master tense through the bond.

"It means that you are the rightful heir. The Covenant, or Protector."

Croft gently shakes himself free of Dani. He walks over to the decanter on the sideboard. Oddly, as he pours himself a drink, he thinks of the strangeness of an orphanage having alcohol in such an accessible place.

_Corellians_.

He shakes his head. Everything in his life has come down to this moment.

He turns and looks into Ti's eyes. He only sees love and care. He looks at Draq'. He sees the same love and care, but in a different fashion.

"One question, my Master."

She nods. "Anything, my apprentice."

"Why did you fight Draq' on telling me this?"

She closes her eyes. "Because I, like the Jedi, was afraid. Afraid of your choice. Afraid of losing you to the Order. I guess I didn't listen well to my own attachment lectures."

"I knew that I could let you go, as long as you were still in the Order. But this was something altogether different. I knew I would feel the same loss that I had felt when..."

_Your other Padawans died._

"Did you honestly think that I could walk away from your teachings? Your love? This easily?"

He makes his choice.

"No. No it does not mean that, Uncle. Or at least not just of this world."

He looks Ti directly in the eye. "I am proud of my heritages. The one I was born in; the one that you introduced me to; the one that I have yet to explore. But at the end of the day, my heritage is the one that you have spent a great deal of time trying to pound, however gently, through my thick Corellian skull."

"I am a Jedi."

Draq's shoulders visibly slump. He suddenly looks older. More worn out. He looks at Tal.

And smiles his Dragon smile. "Not the response I was looking for, boy. But know that I am proud of you."

"So what does this mean for Corellia? Does Rasteen suddenly become, the what did you call it - the Covenant?"

"Maybe not. I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve. Your little buddy Baldrick is helping me out with that. After all, the Hag only gained her power because your father chucked it all and she gained the two votes on the Council as a price for the divorce."

"I would say that your father won that deal."

Croft notices that Ti still hasn't said anything. The expression on her face cuts him. The expression of love.

Of a parent.

"I guess this means that you are not shot of me, yet, Master Ti," he says.

"I guess that it does, my Padawan."

Her expression softens. "But I think that it means that I don't have much more to teach you, Taliesin."

"The day that happens is when they are putting me on a pyre, my Master. I will always have something to learn."

She nods. "Maybe so, but I think that you have taught me just as much."

He bows to her. "Thank you, my Master."

She returns the bow. "It is my honor, my apprentice."

 

 

 


	12. Those Cold Timid Souls Who Know Neither Victory or Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snark and mayhem.

**Corellia**  
**Coronet City  
** **Warehouse District**

The acolyte inspects her sabers as she prepares. She feels her sides pull as she moves. Without shame, she strips her top off. The twin bacta patches are pulling away from her skin. She yanks them away.

Her contact winces as she pulls. Her eyes narrow. His gaze tracks over her form and up to her eyes. A smirk plays over her face. She walks over to him and seizes his expensive shirtfront. She pulls him to her and seizes his lips with hers. Her tongue invades his mouth.

She hisses as she feels his teeth on her full lips. She pushes him to the table, blood running from those lips. The smirk now plays over his face as she climbs on top of him. Her hands rip his shirt away and her nails score his chest.

She yanks his pants down and straddles his middle. Her skirt is quickly moved aside. Her eyes close as she lowers herself on him. She looks down on him. Her eyes flash as she sees his bored smirk in response to her thrusts. She draws back her hand and rocks his head with a powerful slap.

The smirk grows as they increase their tempo. Their cries split the air of the small room.

Later, as the moment is quieter, Asajj Ventress lays her head on her contact's chest. She is calm and centered.

As calm and centered as she ever is.

He caresses her head; running his hands over the tattoos on her skull. The marks of dead enemies are vivid against her chalk-pale skin.

Their blood mixes from their various scores and wounds.

"Now, my sweet. Will you tell me how to slay a Dragon?"

The son of Styn Blackthorn smiles. "I would be happy to, my darling."

**Covenant House**

"So," says a Dragon. "What's next?"

Croft smiles. "Well, that would depend upon where the hell a certain little computer turd is," he says.

"He said that he was going to be out working his sources," Dani says.

The eyeroll coming from a long-suffering Jedi Master rocks the room. "Let me guess. His sources are either in a bar or a brothel," Ti says.

"Most probably," Draq' says.

A new voice joins the chorus. "Dragon, you wound me. I don't do that anymore, not since I left the Order."

Ti closes her eyes as Baldrick walks into the room. He stops short as he sees her. His eyes widen, as he looks down at his feet. He walks over to her and bows deeply.

"Hello, Master Ti," he stammers. Ti smiles. "Hello, Phygus. I never thought I would say this, but it is good to see you, young one."

She places her fingers under his chin and raises his head. "Never look down Phygus. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Croft's eyes sting. He sees the beginnings of a Tano-level smirk on Ti's face. _Wait for it_.

"Besides. Don't you want to look upon my 'hotness?"

Baldrick's eyes widen as he turns toward Croft accusingly. His brother is trying and failing to keep a straight face.

As is everyone else in the room. Croft shrugs his shoulders and mouths 'Jedi Master' to Baldrick.

As usual, the Dragon brings them all back to the ground. "As much as I am sure that my little troll's fantasy life just got that much richer; I actually hope he has been doing the goddamned job I have been paying him to do. Paying him very well, as a matter of fact."

Baldrick looks at him. "Well-paid? You have got to be shitting me."

"Don't start with me, little man. What have you learned?"

"Besides the fact that my boss is an asshole?"

A 'Master' look from the Togruta standing near him silences the troll. She also sends one towards the Dragon. His fists unclench.

"I have learned that there has been more chatter on the Darknet about that spice gang I told you about and a new player," says Baldrick. "One of the under bosses is complaining that another twenty prime soldiers have gone off of the grid."

An oppressive silence falls over the room. Baldrick continues, "There are some things that are more definitive. The 'new player' is definitely connected to someone in Coronet City - someone other than the local scumbag population."

"Who?" Dani asks.

"Don't know, sweetie. But it is someone fairly powerful. Someone using a Silverplate HP address."

Both Ti and Croft look perplexed. Dani explains. "A Silverplate HP address indicates someone very high up, either in government or one of the big corporations. It is not Diktat-level, but just below."

"Isn't that a bit obvious?" Croft asks.

"Not to anyone below my skills," Baldrick says. "Which means everyone else."

_Asshole_ , Croft mouths. That catches him a look from his Master.

Baldrick smirks at him, but continues. "It was run through so many bounce protocols that mere mortals wouldn't be able to identify it as a Silverplate."

"Not that I want to feed into your disturbing lack of humility, Phygus, but is there anyway to identify it further?" Ti asks.

Baldrick actually stands straighter and sobers. "Master, I was able to narrow it down to a range of 05 to 10."

Dani and Draq' look at one another. "What?" Croft says.''

"That range on a Silverplate indicates either the Legate-Internal's office or..."

"The Electoral Council," Draq' finishes for his Constable.

"About that particular body, Dragon," Baldrick starts. "I have some information for your ears only. About ancient history." His eyes track towards Croft.

Draq' nods. "We'll talk about that later. Anything else?"

"Yes. I saved the best for last. The spice gang underboss said that there is actually a contract out with this latest communication."

"On who?"

"On you, Dragon. Or your son."

"You could've actually led with that, short-stuff," Croft says drily.

Ti exhales. She wastes no time. "Then, Mr. Procurator, you need to stay here until Croft, Dani, and I can find the connected one."

Draq's eyes narrow. "Oh, no hell, I won't."

Ti's eyes flash. Croft recognizes the storm brewing. One that Draq' bel Iblis doesn't see coming.

"I will not hide. I am going out there and find those assholes. I will hit them dead on. Especially since they brought my son into it."

"Uncle," Croft starts, the new word coming awkwardly, "let me go out there and find them. I have already faced the Force-user. I came out alright..."

"Oh, really, Taliesin? What about the multicolored bruise on your side from those imaginary broken ribs that you have? That you have concealed from me. That I have let slide," Ti says.

Croft smiles. "You know me, Master. A few broken ribs won't keep me down. To paraphrase Ahsoka, I am prickly and hard to eradicate."

Dani snorts. "You certainly are _prick-ly_." He smirks and blows her a kiss. She responds with an obscene gesture.

Ti's eyes roll, but she stares frankly at the Zeltron. Dani returns the scrutiny.

Draq' looks at all of them. "I repeat. I will not hide. I am going out in the open and calling them out. I will stand ready to take them."

"Besides," he says with a grin, "I have a powerful Jedi Master, a member of the Jedi Council watching my back, as well as one of the finest officers in CorSec."

Dani's eyes widen at that.

"Plus, I have a little prick who is hard to get rid of on my side. For whatever that is worth."

Croft shakes his head. Phygus nods his agreement.

_This is my 'family?'_

**Government District**

Draq' Bel Iblis walks down the sidewalk near his office. A look of nonchalance plays across his face.

His head, however, is on a swivel.

He is reckless, not stupid.

On his orders, Baldrick had sent a comm to the Electoral Council's office letting them know of his movements. As if they never suspected the leak coming from that body.

_That body, my ass. There is only one person on that 'body' that might want to actually kill me. No, strike that. Only one evil enough to try and actually carry it out._

The most important thing, they had sent Dani to find Garm and make sure he was with trusted guards. He smiles, a hint of pride in his thoughts. _Meiloruun don't fall far from the tree. Garm is probably telling her to go to hell and pulling the blaster out of his desk._

The sun glints off of metal on a roof nearby. He smiles. The full Dragon smile.

The glint of metal is replace by a flash of green fire. His hand moves towards his back, beneath his coat.

XXXXX

The thug aims his rifle at the tall figure below. He thinks of the credits this one movement of his finger will bring him. Enough to get him out of this business and away from the 'social club' that has owned his life for too long.

The sighting reticule focuses on the head of the Dragon of Corellia. The gyros center. The finger moves to gently pull back on the trigger.

He feels a jerk. _Did I fire too early? That's never happened._ He lifts up slightly on the rifle to reposition. His mind registers that the rifle suddenly is lighter.

His eyes widen as he lifts the rifle up. A rifle missing most of the barrel and front stock, back to the scope. He drops it as the heat from the melted residue burns his hand. He turns.

A bearded, solid figure is standing there. An easy grin playing on his features, the meter-long shaft of green energy in his hands, held carefully, but nonchalantly.

"Hello. Could I take a moment of your time and talk to you about our lord and master.....?"

The rest of the sentence is cut off as the figure whirls and deflects a blaster bolt fired at him from across the roof. There is a cry as his hooded attacker is struck in the side by the deflected blaster bolt.

In the completion of the parry, he turns back to the sniper as the sniper fumbles for his backup weapon. The butt of the lightsaber ends in a loud thump on top of the sniper's head.

"Guess not," Taliesin Croft says as he looks at the crumpled figure.

He turns back to the other attacker. The hooded figure is nowhere to be seen. He walks over and picks up the discarded blaster. The blaster is small, of an expensive make, with a shiny exterior. A small seal is on the receiver. A seal that jogs his memory and is outlined in the colors of green, purple, and gold.

The colors of an Elder House of Corellia. Of justice, faith, and power.

_Really starting to feel unwelcome in my new 'family'_ he thinks as he turns to look for new targets.

XXXXX

Asajj Ventress purses her lips as she sees the so-called sniper taken out by the Jedi whelp. She also sees her 'ally' taken out with one blaster bolt and running from the roof. She tries to tamp down her anger, but is unsuccessful.

"I guess that I will have to do it myself," she mutters. Her Force-sense, which has been buzzing with her proximity to the whelp, suddenly screams. She smiles and begins to turn.

"That will be very difficult, child," says a clear, strong voice.

Jedi Master Shaak Ti stands, her blue-bladed lightsaber held easily in a defensive position. A slight smile of challenge plays on her lips.

"I don't think so, Jedi. You weren't so hard to overcome last time. You don't even have your plaything with you to help you."

Shaak's smile widens. "It is true that my apprentice is not here. But, he told me that I could handle his 'light-work,' whatever that means."

"I personally think that this was just Corellian bravado on his part. But then I think about how well he did against you the last time. I am sure that he is correct."

"It will be a pity, Master, that your head will be on the ground and your eyes won't be able to see me twisting my lightsabers in your Corellian thug's guts.That you won't get to see the light go out of his stupid eyes."

Shaak Ti says nothing, but slowly begins to advance towards Ventress. "Your anger does you a disservice. I can feel it rolling off of you in waves. It will be your undoing, child."

"I am not a child, Jedi bitch. I am a Sith."

Ti stops. The smile grows even more. The sharp canines of a predator are now visible. "No. Not even close. You are a petulant child with a bit of Force sensitivity and some lightsaber skills."

"But, child. You can change. I can sense your pain and anger, but also your conflict. Put down your sabers. Join me and your pain will go away."

Ti's voice is soothing as she closes the distance. Asajj's eyes flash fire as she tightens her grip on the curved sabers. With a cry, she charges Ti.

Ti easily parries her wild swings and retaliates with a calm series of strikes on her own. Her expression never changes as she strikes.

Ventress leaps into the air and attempts to land behind the Jedi. Ti leaps herself and strikes at the acolyte in mid-air. Both of their bodies collide as their sabers do. They fly apart and land in separate heaps.

Ventress is quicker to get up than Ti and strides towards the Togruta. She swings her left blade at Ti's head while stabbing towards her chest with the right blade.

Ti's blade is a blue blur as it deflects first the right blade back towards its user and parries the blade swinging towards her head. Ti springs up and over Ventress, striking at the dark acolyte's shaven head. Ventress manages to turn and parry the strike as the Jedi Master lands. In parrying the strike with one saber, she lowers the other. Ti thrusts hard with her lightsaber. The blade enters the bald woman's side to the hilt.

Ventress gasps as the fire of the wound surges through her body. She maintains her hold on her sabers, but sinks to her knees as the Jedi pulls her blade free. Ventress manages to immediately rise and brings her sabers together at Ti. Ti is able to parry both, but the movement causes her to back up, leaving an opening for the dark acolyte to leap away.

Ventress disappears over the side of the building.

Ti sighs and sheathes her blade. She walks over to the side, but the streets are clear.

Except for the twenty or so thugs advancing towards a position down the street.

A position where a Dragon was last seen.

Ti ignites her blade and leaps.

XXXXX

Draq' bel Iblis has finally succumbed to good sense and taken cover behind a public transport kiosk, rather than standing his two meters or so in height and blasting away.

One arm hangs useless at his side from a glancing blow from the incoming thugs. He can see the numbers; it is only a matter of time.

_Okay, son. Isn't it about time for the Jedi to swoop in and save the day?_

The tenor of the fight changes, as suddenly more bolts are going towards the thugs.

He looks to his left and sees a beautiful Zeltron firing her blaster. On the other side of her....

His heart sinks, as he sees a figure that mirrors his own except for the height. His own son standing there firing the blaster that Draq' had given him when he was fifteen years old and already a budding politician.

Draq' shakes his head. Another figure lands near his right side. A Jedi with a green lightsaber and endless loads of snark and love. Croft lands with a gasp and holds his side for a moment, but then starts his own endless swinging of his blade.

In defense of family, as well as the oath of a protector.

Maybe not the protector of just Corellia.

His eyes sting as he returns the fire of the thugs.

A fire which is diminishing. He looks closer at the phalanx. Their numbers seem to be diminishing.

He sees a tall figure, her montrals that of a full-grown example of her species, calmly swinging a blue lightsaber and pushing other thugs away with her mind.

The blaster fire stops as apparently all of their antagonists are down or have run away.

Ti walks up to Draq' and his company. She looks at her Padawan, who is standing tall, but holding his side and breathing heavily. She smiles gently, "You're a bit out of shape, my child."

Taliesin's eyes widen at the words. He smirks. With an effort, he starts to speak in the language of her birth. His lower voice misses the trills, but the intent comes across. "I am sure that you will get me into shape quickly, my mother-of-the-Hunt."

They both look up as the Force screams at them. The pale woman, her left hand holding the lightsaber wound in her side, rushes from behind.

Right at Draq' Bel Iblis' unprotected back. She begins her slash. The saber swings downward...

And scores a cut on the gray-clad back of a young Zeltron who places herself between Draq' and danger.

Both she and Draq' turn and open fire on the woman. They stop as Croft sprints towards her.

The dark-side adept looks at the charging Padawan and turns to run. An aircar swings behind her with the door open. A glimpse of a hooded figure is all they get as it turns and speeds off.

Croft starts toward the car, but stops and turns. He sees his Master on the ground, supporting a wounded officer.

An officer who put herself in mortal peril for his Uncle. He starts to run towards her, but thinks better of it, as his chest seizes. He feels liquid on his lips; he wipes his hand across them and sees the crimson froth. He stops as he sees Ti supporting Dani, who has risen to her feet.

"I'm fine," the young woman says. "It is just a scratch."

Ti and Draq' roll their eyes together. They turn her around. The wound looks angry through the remnant of her uniform shirt. Dani shakes them off and turns toward Ti.

"I might feel better if a certain Jedi Master would give me a kiss."

Draq' rolls his eyes. It is possible that his eyes may stick in that position. He looks at Ti. "She must be fine if she is flirting."

Ti looks at Dani, ignoring Draq'. A slight smile comes across her lips as she sees Croft walking up. Without a word, she takes the young woman's face in her hands and brings her lips to Dani's. She can see the surprise in the wide eyes of the Zeltron.

It is nothing compared to Croft's.

His eyes will probably be on the pavement soon.

_It was worth it, just for that expression_. Ti thinks, as she holds the kiss.

 


	13. Present or Not Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they call the roll in the Senate, the Senators do not know whether to say 'Present' or 'Not Guilty.' Theodore Roosevelt.

**Bel Iblis Cantonment  
Medical Wing**

Phygus Baldrick stands with his hands on the railing in front of two healing tanks. He stands there watching a brother and a sister floating in the lifesaving gunk.

Croft and Dani rest as the bacta does its work. Dani has turned in her immersion towards him; he can actually see the nasty wound on her back knitting and sealing, as the scar shrinks in size. He can see the muscles below the wound moving as they heal, as well.

She had been extremely lucky. If the dark bitch had swung her blade while a bit closer to the Dragon, Dani would have been cleaved in half and her light would've been dimmed forever, leaving everyone that she had touched to grieve and be the lesser for her loss.

Including him.

Even when he was being his usual charming self to her, hitting on her, trying to cop a feel, she always would have a bright smile for him after cutting him to pieces with her wit. The smile would be accompanied by one phrase - a phrase for him alone.

"Maybe next time, little man."

As his gaze moves to Croft, he sees that his brother's healing is much less visible. The bruise on his ribs is shrinking, but the real repair is invisible as his ribs knit back together and his lung tissue heals. He shakes his head at his idiot brother.

All that goddamned jumping around with the Force and fighting managed to move his broken ribs into his lung.

For yet another time in his young life, Taliesin Croft's lung had been punctured by his recklessness. _No, that is not fair. Each time he was doing what he needed to do. What he was born to do._

Protecting.

This time, fortunately, a Jedi Master, a Dragon, and the woman now floating next to him were standing there when he collapsed, the bloody froth on his lips. Within fifteen minutes, he was on his way to this tank with all of modern medicine at play.

This time, he didn't just have a brave little Togruta youngling to save him; all of her brief training in battlefield medicine coming into play. Coming into play as she cut into his chest and jammed a _gar_ reed from the nearby stream into his lungs. Allowing him to breathe easier again.

No matter. Whether modern medicine or the half-scared youngling in the wilderness, the end result was the same. He lived.

Baldrick had been expelled from the Order a bit before the Hunt. He had heard of it, as well as the results of the broken-rib pool he had started. He looks down. He had never gotten the chance to thank the little huntress for saving his brother's life.

He starts as a a half-remembered, long dormant skill brings a buzzing light in his head. He starts to move away from the rail, but a pair of hands settle on his shoulders. They gently hold him in place and rest while their owner gazes at the healing pair.

He turns his head slightly and watches Shaak Ti, surreptitiously. For such a calm, serene example of a Jedi Master, her emotions are playing over her face as she looks at Croft. Guilt, love, care, respect. All in the space of the ten seconds he is watching her.

He watches her eyes move over to Dani. A different set of emotions seem to play over Ti's face, as she looks at the Zeltron.

Baldrick keeps the cataloging of those to himself.

Another presence joins them. No Force-sense is needed to detect that raw power. Draq' Bel Iblis, his own arm in a sling, fixes his own expression of concern on the pair.

Baldrick smiles. _Either concern or his desire to push his head through a brick wall in order to heal both of them without bacta._

He notices that Ti is observing him, her hands never moving from his shoulders. There is an unreadable expression on her face. An expression that soon becomes one of pride. Pride in what he has made of himself, both as a person and in a profession.

That her defense of him at his tribunal was not misplaced. He places one of his hands over hers and returns her gaze.

He winks at the Master. She shakes her head gently and a warm, slight smile plays over her lips. She ruffles his hair on the side of his head slightly with her free hand.

Draq' watches them both with a grin on his face. They turn back to the resting pair.

"How long before they are out of bacta?" he asks. Ti is silent. Baldrick answers.

"Dani should be out in a couple of hours. Her wound was not deep, she should be good to go as soon as she gets through the bacta hangover."

He sobers. "Croft will be in there for another couple of days. A major organ was involved, plus several broken bones. He might take a while longer after his swim to recover."

"One thing I can say about the boy. He doesn't seem to do anything half-assed," Draq' says.

Phygus can feel Ti's sadness in the Force. "No. He never does," she says quietly.

Baldrick smiles. "I probably shouldn't say this, but I guess the statute of limitations has run out for anything the Council can do to me."

"I used to run a pool on whether or not Tal would break ribs on any mission he was on. I started it after the second set of ribs."

Ti looks down at him and smirks. "We know, Phygus. Half the Council, the less traditional half contributed to it."

Draq' looks at them and sees the Jedi in a new light as he listens to their laughter. A laughter of better days. He joins them.

The laughter dies off as his son walks in. He looks at the pair in the bacta for a moment. He shakes his head and sighs. The expression on his face echoes one commonly found on his father's face.

"Their blood, sweat, and tears may be all for naught because of the Galactic Senate," he says, as his look turns to one of disgust when he mentions the name of the body.

They quiet and listen to him. Ti removes her hands from Baldrick's shoulders and turns to the Senator. "Why? What have they done, Garm?" Draq' asks.

"The representative from Naboo has proposed a Bill in the Senate granting the Supreme Chancellor almost unlimited emergency powers."

Draq's rage is palpable. "What the fuck? Has Amidala lost all reason? She was the biggest voice against the Military Creation Act."

"It wasn't her. She is out of pocket. No one knows where she is. It was that idiot Binks who proposed it."

Garm sobers, "We can't fault him. He was probably doing what he thought was right. Or he is a tool."

"So what does this mean?" Baldrick asks.

"It means that Palpatine will probably push through the creation of a standing army as soon as the Bill passes," Ti says.

Garm's face grows darker. "It passed by acclimation. There were dissenting voices. Corellia's representative opposed it. But it passed, nonetheless. In the same voice of accepting this 'immense responsiblity' as he termed it, Palpatine announced the creation of a 'Grand Army of the Republic.' Such a democratic term."

Ti looks at Garm. "So what does this mean for our mission?"

"I am heading to Coruscant now. I am going to speak to the Senate and try to convince them to reconsider. If they don't, then I will be forced to take action," Garm says.

"May I ask what that action will be, Senator?" Ti asks, a dark look on her face.

Garm does not back down, but he does soften his words. "After my experience yesterday, even though I don't have any proof of Separatist involvement, I am not inclined to join Dooku's cause."

Ti shoots him a questioning look. "Garen Blackthorn has disappeared. He was last seen shortly before the attack. While I can't connect the Separatists to this, I think that it is very coincidental that one of the leading proponents of the Sep cause has vanished in that time frame." Garm smiles ruefully. "For better or for worse, I am the Dragon's son. I don't believe in such things as coincidence and happenstance."

Ti can feel said Dragon swell with pride.

Garm grows serious. "However, I cannot discount the fact that I feel like having Jedi here to negotiate for the Republic, especially a Padawan who has connections, even if they are not widely known to the Elder Family, is just as big of a problem for the Five Brothers and the Republic."

The Jedi starts to speak. She finds that she doesn't disagree. "Point taken, Senator. However, I ask that whatever you think of the Jedi, please do not use my Padawan for your political gain. He is just as disturbed as you are about the Council's machinations. As am I, but I do not care for my own reputation."

Garm shakes his head vehemently. "Ti, I will not use the Jedi for any purpose. You have my word on that. But I think that someone needs to take the Council to task. I think that they sent you here for a reason - a reason that included an Elder Family member's influence."

"Plus," he smiles, "How could I hurt my new-found cousin in any way, Master?"

Ti smiles at that. She again grows serious. "Well, you are not going to secede to the Separatists. You are probably not going to leave the Republic. I am assuming that _Contemplanys Hermi_ is in the Five Brothers' future."

"The Meditative Contemplitude?" Draq' asks. "My nephew's study does you both credit." He looks at his son and then his nephew in the bacta tank.

Garm squares himself. "Yes, Master Jedi, I do believe that is our best course."

"But," he says, "I think that there is a way forward for Corellia and the Jedi." He looks at Draq'. "I believe that our intelligence apparatuses can work together to help restore peace and light to the galaxy. I will leave it to our esteemed minister for External Affairs to work out the details."

Garm smiles widely. "While I will leave the mechanics to you, I do have a proposition for the liaisons from both of our groups. Those two young people who are floating next to one another would be my choice for the positions. Of course," he says slyly, "I am not the subject matter expert in this area."

Draq' smirks. "We'll just probably have to narrowly define what 'liaison' actually means for both of them - that it doesn't mean a new kind of sex act."

Ti matches his smirk. "I may have a solution for at least one of them."

She grows serious. "I believe that I can convince the Council of the need for this; that this is the best solution for the challenge. If I can't, then I may need a job, Procurator."

Draq' smiles. "I would hire you in a second, Master Ti."

The Dragon and a Senator both straighten and bow to the Jedi Master.

**Raxus**

Asajj Ventress and Garen Blackthorn walk slowly into Count Dooku's new office as Head of State for the Confederacy of Independent Systems.

The former Jedi Master, an imposing figure of advanced years, ignores them as he looks at the scene outside the large window behind his desk.

Ventress kneels. Blackthorn walks over to a chair near a conference table and sits down. He looks at Ventress with amusement.

Dooku turns and looks at the Corellian. His face shows no expression as he contemplates his assassin - his erstwhile apprentice, and the arrogant son of another Elder House.

"Your lack of respect, Mr. Blackthorn does not do a son of an Elder House credit. The Code states that respect will be shown to senior Elder Houses."

Garen smirks. "Then perhaps you should be showing me obeisance. As I recall, Corellia is senior to Serreno."

"But I am also a member of a House who is a Head of State."

His expression softens. _Or at least as much as one of his face can._

"But," he says almost cheerfully, "let us not argue over protocol. I am offering you the position of Senator-in-Exile for Corellia for the Confederacy's Senate."

The young Corellian's expression is incredulous. "What do you mean, in-exile, Dooku? I am prepared to offer up Corellia for you."

Dooku smiles. "Perhaps your time in bacta and hyperspace has left you out of the information loop. I have it on good authority that you and my young apprentice's bungled attack on Bel Iblis, while not definitively placed at our feet, has been enough for the Five Brothers to forego joining our cause."

"Then I want you to make me a member of your Cabinet. I deserve that compensation."

Ventress closes her eyes and bows her head. She steels herself for the onslaught of lightning.

Instead, she hears a gasping sound coming from the table. She opens her eyes and sees the Corellian suspended in mid-air above the seat. His hands scrabble at his throat. She can sense his presence in the Force dimming. Just as it extinguishes fully, she hears a release of his windpipe as air flows again. Garen is still suspended. She watches incredulously as his left arm starts to bend, as well as his right leg.

Bend in ways that they weren't meant to in nature.

She hears a series of snaps as the limbs give in to the pressure in several places. Blackthorn is dropped unceremoniously on the ground with a cacophony of screams issuing from his mouth.

"No, my child," Dooku says to Asajj, almost gently. "I can't afford to lose you right now. In spite of your missteps, I still see great potential in you."

"Be warned, however," he says, "your punishment is merely in abatement, right now. You will take command of the fighters of a Fleet near Yavin. You will await my orders. Do not fail me, my child."

"Please be good enough to have a medical droid come attend to our Senator-in-Exile, Asajj. I am sure that they can repair him to the point that he might still be useful to you, if you want to let him between your legs so that you both can rut like animals, again."

"He means nothing to me, my Master."

Dooku nods. He walks over to Ventress and places his hand on her pale cheek. "Go, my apprentice. Do your worst when war is declared."

She doesn't shudder as she feels the hint of dark energy on her skin from his fingers.


	14. Who Fail While Daring Greatly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lives and Politics

**Bel Iblis Cantonment  
Medical Wing**

  
Dani's stomach roils and flips as she fights her way towards a bright light. She gags as the nasal tube is drawn out. She keeps her eyes tightly closed as she closes on the light. She feels soft fingers running over her forehead and through her hair. Her oily, greasy hair. As she formulates the thought, the smell of bacta overpowers her. A soft voice, a slight hint of an otherworldly accent, gently whispers her name.

Does she imagine the soft lips on hers? She comes fully awake; her eyes open and adjust to the light. She looks to see the anticipated face. The face that matches the name she heard herself call out.

Her eyes widen as Draq' Bel Iblis' smirking face is looking down at her. His hand is holding hers, but it is not the soft hand she was apparently dreaming about.

She somehow makes her voice work. "Did you just kiss me, Dragon?" she asks accusingly.

His eyes widen. He stammers. "Hell no. Why the hell would you think that I would kiss you like that, you idiot? You're my...."

He breaks off. "As I was saying, you're one of my officers. Besides, I just got here. Just a second before you woke up."

His eyes narrow. "You might want to ask the person who was in here before, whose name you were calling out." He jerks his head to the other side of the bed.

A tall, serene Togruta stands there, looking down at her with...several emotions. One of these emotions is concern. She realizes that the Jedi is wiping a cool rag over her forehead.

Draq' watches Ti with amusement, as she brings a cup of ice to the young woman's lips. A strange look comes across Dani's face. With the instincts of a Force-user, Ti floats a basin in and turns Dani on her side, holding her hair back, as a light blue, viscous substance propels from the officer's mouth.

Dani heaves for several minutes, bringing up the last of the residual bacta. Ti holds the basin with her mind and her hair with both hands, murmuring soft words in a language Draq' doesn't recognize.

Dani finishes. Ti wipes her mouth and allows a couple of ice chips in her mouth.

She coughs. Ti's face grows concerned. The young woman's breath comes easier. "Where is Croft?"

Ti smiles. "He is still under. He was worse off than you. Maybe another day or so."

Dani smiles and whispers. "That boy. He is going to be the death of me."

 _You have no idea,_ Ti thinks.

"What? You are all of two months older than him?"

"Maybe."

"Why aren't you with him, Master?" Dani asks.

"Somebody needed me here. Phygus is with him," Ti says.

Draq' suddenly realizes that he needs to be elsewhere. "Well, Dani, darlin’,”he says, "I have to be in a meeting." He smiles. "You have four hours to get on your feet and fully functional from this hangover."

Dani and Ti looks at him with differing emotions. Dani with shock and Ti with anger.

"Why, Dragon?"

"Because you are going to Coruscant with Garm and Ti while he delivers Corellia's response to the shitstorm that has happened while you were sleeping in."

Dani forgets all of her shock and waves Ti's anger away. "I'm going to protect the Senator? You trust me? We leave in four hours? I'll be ready."

Apparently when Deputy Constable no, _Senior_ Deputy Constable Daineraan Faygan gets excited, her words run together. He looks with pride at her.

Draq' jerks his head towards Ti and the door. "I'll see you around, love," he says to Dani. He kisses her forehead. She rises up and clutches him to her. "I am so proud of you, Dani. I'll make an Inspector of you, yet."

Ti's Togruta hearing picks up other whispered words from the future Inspector. Words in a language she hasn't heard in years. From a time and place where she learned lessons the hard way.

"I'll be right back, Dani," Ti says.

Dani looks at Ti. She shakes her head. "No, Shaak. You need to be with Taliesin before you go. You don't know when you'll see him again, with what is coming."

Ti smiles at the use of her first name. Dani reaches up and touches her cheek. "I'll see you on the ship. We'll make some time before Coruscant. To talk, or..."

Ti moves her face towards Dani's. Dani shakes her head and puts her hand on Ti's chest. "No. I will not kiss you with puke-breath. Later."

Draq' wastes no words, as they leave the room. "Are you ready for the Council, Master Ti?"

"Yes, Procurator, I am. And whatever the consequences are," the Master says. "I only wish that I didn't have to go to Coruscant until after my Padawan wakes up."

Draq' smiles. "I know, Shaak. Rest assured that we will look after him and care for him."

"I know. I have no fears of anything else. This may be his only respite for a long time. He may not even get that."

"Why?" Draq asks.

"With the summons to the Council, Master Windu said that whatever Knights and Padawans that are at the Temple may be deployed to find two of our own and the Senator from Naboo.

"Yoda hinted that Croft has another assignment. Without me."

"I have no doubt that he will handle himself well and take care of himself. You can be very proud of him. I am," Draq' says.

He gathers himself. He holds out his hand; thinks better of it. They embrace.

"I don't say this to many people - actually I have never said it before. I am in awe of you, Shaak Ti. You are a most impressive teacher. A helluva fighter and a powerful example. My nephew is in good hands."

His eyes grow serious. "We are in for a conflagration, Shaak. Please, both of you watch out for one another."

She nods. "We will, Draq'.

"When you come back to my world, I will show you around. I will find the biggest, most marbled nerf-steak I can and cook it to a carnivore's taste. Which probably means I will slap its ass and throw it on your plate. I will serve you fine wine, and use my copious charm to get you into my bed."

Her eyebrow markings rise. "I will eat your steak and drink your wine. But remember, I am a Jedi Master, Draq' Bel Iblis. We don't succumb to Corellian charm. Besides," she says with a galactic-level smirk, "you are old and nearly dried up. I am still young and vital."

He smiles mysteriously as he turns to go. "Ask Luminara Unduli how dried up I am."

He has the satisfaction before the door closes on her face to see her mouth open and her eyes widen in shock.

XXXXX

Croft hangs suspended in the vat of healing, between two worlds. He is comfortable as he has lived that way all of his life. He can sense presences standing vigil over him. Especially a small, prickly one, full of snark and a small pang of bitterness for a path taken from him. The little presence has been there throughout his time in this liquid.

Another presence makes itself known. A sharp, powerful presence that is the light of this world. A presence that has embraced him and claimed him, but has accepted that his choice was not of his blood family. A presence that overwhelms his with its pride and love, even though they have known each other for only a few days--at least on Croft's part.

He smiles as he feels the bright presence of the other inhabitant of this healing gel. A presence of joy, of warmth, of comfort, and yes, love. A skillful a warrior as she is a comforter. Other memories play in his mind's eye and over his body. Memories of her taste and her skin against his, her warmth as he....

_You need to focus on getting out of this tank, _Baa'je_. Not on that warmth and taste._

His mind smiles at the other presence. The one that has been in his mind even before he was dropped in this vat. A presence of power, of teaching, and of love. The love of a parent for a child's mistakes and triumphs.

His mind's eye smiles, as he remembers lessons both difficult and easy. Of a patient teacher, whose endless supply of that patience was lowered, but never emptied.

He hears the presence in his head speak directly to him through their bond. He has a sensation of her standing before his tank. Her hand on the glass. Of her forehead resting on the tank as well.

He opens the bond further, as he senses new emotions coming from his Master. Her shields are completely open. He feels familiar emotions; of pride and love; they are leavened by new, unfamiliar-to-him feelings. At least from her.

Pain. Uncertainty. Even fear.

Not fear for herself, but for him and the galaxy at large.

The sensations diminish and disappear as she realizes he is behind her shields.

All that remains is the love and compassion. Along with a healthy dose of......

_Ohhh boy._

He feels her smirk.

_No, my apprentice. Those are not for you. Never you mind._

He smiles in his mind. _Do I need to give you Attachment Lecture #3d? Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Master?_

_That would be fine, if there was anything you wouldn't do, Taliesin._

He feels her growing serious along the link. He can feel sadness and regret. _There is no emotion, only peace_.

_No, Master. There is emotion, yet peace._

_I have to go to Coruscant, Tal. I won't be here when you get out._

_That is fine, Master. We will see each other back at the Temple. I'll be there as soon as I can._

He feels the pain surface. _No, my Padawan. I don't know when I will see you. Yoda has another mission for you. One that you will be on your own._

His own heart skips, as he contemplates this. _Master. I am not ready._

He feels the serene smile. _I would disagree. Just in the last few days, you have proven yourself ready time and again._

_I cannot express how proud I am of you, my apprentice. You will be a great and powerful Jedi. Full of compassion and love. Yes, love. I said it. I will be proud to serve next to you as a Knight. Just as I am very proud of you now._

He can't form words in his mind.

She saves him.

_May the Force be with you, my apprentice._

He responds, just as he hears a subvocalization. Not even a whisper.

_I love you, my child. You saved me._

**Coruscant  
** **Senate Chamber  
** **Two Days Later**

Garm Bel Iblis stands in the member's pod. He waits for Mas Amedda to recognize him. To recognize an exercise in futility, but of necessity.

He looks at the Chagrian. Amedda cannot meet his eye. He begins to move his pod out, without recognition. He sees Palpatine eyeing him. The Supreme Chancellor nods to Amedda.

"The Chair recognizes the Right Honorable member from the Corellian Sector," Amedda says.

Garm looks at Dani, standing next to him, eyeing the crowd, as if expecting an attack. He catches her eye. She smiles and nods.

He looks at the spectator's seating. He sees a flash of blue and white lekku and montrals, sitting next to a wizened little green being. A human male, all hard looks and solid power sits next to both of them.

He turns to the pickup. "Chancellor. Vice Chancellor. My fellow members. I thank you for allowing me to speak, even though the matter before us seems to have been decided. The matter that will determine the course of the Republic and the galaxy for years to come.

This has not been an easy course for the Five Brothers. We have been divided over whether to leave the Republic or to join Count Dooku's Confederacy of Separatists.

But, as fitting for a democracy, a Republic, a world who was one of the founders of this Republic, we continued the conversation.”

He takes a sip of water. "These divisions have even played out among our first families. Family members versus family members.

Until a few days ago, these debates had been peaceful. No violence for the most part.

But then, twenty of our citizens were taken from us by an attack. An attack initially dismissed as gang violence.

We mourned. We continued the conversation.

Then another attack. This time it was on our government" He closes his eyes. "An attack on my family by an assassin.

Thankfully, my father was not seriously hurt. He fought back himself, along with this officer who stands next to me.” Dani looks down at her feet. "She gave her blood for her adopted world, saving my father and others' lives.”

He smiles. "She would say she was doing her job and would not want to be recognized. I will recognize her.

Others helped fight this assassin off. We, unfortunately were not able to catch the assassin. We do have leads.

The assassin contracted with local thugs to carry out this terrorist attack. The attack was a wake up for the Five Brothers and their people. We have not found evidence that can definitively identify these attackers.

We found that we could no longer continue the conversation. We can no longer continue the conversation with ourselves.

But with the actions taken by this body to grant the Supreme Chancellor almost unlimited powers, the Five Brothers can no longer continue the conversation with the Senate. We have opposed every measure that has given one man more and more power - in direct contravention of the principles of the Republic and the Five Brothers. The Military Creation Act. The Emergency Powers Act. We have continued the conversation in hopes of moving forward for the Republic.

This is not a criticism of the Chancellor or any one person." He looks at the Chancellor, meeting the intense gaze. "Merely our defense of democratic principles.

I do want to speak of the two Jedi who came to our world to convince us to stay in the Republic. In spite of their instructions, in spite of the wishes of the Republic, they stood with us in defense of our people's lives. They stood by their principles and both shed blood for citizens of the Republic. They exercised their mandate as peacekeepers, in spite of the feelings of most of the Republic. Jedi Master Shaak Ti and her Padawan learner Taliesin Croft are a credit to the Jedi and the Republic.

"Padawan Croft," he says, as he smiles a secret smile, "is still recovering from wounds received in the attack. I would like to place it in the record, the Five Brothers' appreciation for these two Jedi.

As individuals, not as the Order." There is a low murmur. The first reaction Garm's speech has produced. Garm can sense Yoda's frown. He can see Windu glaring at Ti. Ti studiously ignores him and concentrates on listening to Corellia decide its destiny.

As we can no longer continue the conversation, Corellia and its younger brothers have decided to take action."

An intensified murmur bubbles through the chamber. "We will not join the Separatists. Our destiny lies with the Republic. However, we cannot participate in the war or what it will do to the Republic."

The murmur intensifies, with an undercurrent of anger. Two words come through the murmur.

_Coward. Traitor._

"We are invoking the Article of the Republic Constitution that is unique to Corellia. That recognizes Corellia's unique contribution to the founding and establishment of the Republic.

We propose to invoke _Contemplanys Hermi._ "

The chamber erupts. Amedda bangs his staff. "Order! There will be order."

The chamber calms.

"This means that we will close the borders of the Corellian sector to all vessels of war from both belligerents. Our Senatorial delegation will become one of observation. We give up our vote. We will continue this state of meditative contemplation until the Galaxy comes to its senses."

"We will continue the conversation when peace once again unites the Galaxy. Thank you, my colleagues."

He turns his pod around as the tumult erupts again. As soon as it docks, Dani and he walk out of the chamber.

_Now to the Jedi._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. 
> 
> Theodore Roosevelt  
> 23 April 1910 - Given at the Sorbonne in Paris.


	15. Yesterday Ends at Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Corellian charms the Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding one more chapter to keep the length manageable. Apparently Garm Bel Iblis had more to say. Epilogue will be posted tonight or early tomorrow morning.

**Coruscant  
Jedi Temple**

Senator Garm Bel Iblis exits his shuttle at the Temple Visitor's pad. There is a heightened level of activity at this and other points of egress and ingress. Strange new low-atmosphere craft are coming and going. Craft which have only one purpose. They bristle with guns and have open bays along their sides.

He can see the handholds that dot the ceilings along those bays.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. _We have all failed. We have sown the wind. Now, we will bear the consequences._

He hears a noise. He opens his eyes and sees a small version of Shaak Ti standing a meter or so away. Or at least the same species. Without the serene patience.

Although the the youngling is doing her best to be patient.

He smiles at her. "Hello. Are you looking for me?"

The youngling shakes her head, as if breaking from deep thought. He notices that she has been looking at his face with a wide-eyed gaze in her wise blue eyes. For a moment, he considers that the look is one of recognition, but quickly discounts that thought.

She remembers her purpose. "I am sorry, Senator. I am to escort you to Master Yoda. If you would follow me?" She holds her hand out politely in the direction of the elevator.

Garm smiles. "I will, if you would share your name, my lady."

The young one starts and has the grace to look sheepish. She draws herself up to her full height and bows in a manner worthy of her fellow huntress. "I apologize for my rudeness, Senator. It is just that everybody seems to be in a hurry. My name is Ahsoka Tano, Initiate of the Clawmouse Clan."

He smiles. He returns her bow with the same seriousness and respect. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Tano. Please lead the way with all dispatch."

She narrows her eyes. She, who is the master of snark, is unable to tell if she is being snarked. "I am no lady, Senator. I hope to be a Padawan, someday."

He smiles as they walk to the elevator. "I am sure that you will make a fine one, Initiate Tano."

They ride the elevator in silence, with her sneaking occasional glances at the Corellian. He decides to bring out some of the snark and sarcasm that he detects in the little Togruta. "Am I presentable enough to Master Yoda, Initiate?"

Her eyes come back to the present. "Huh?" She looks chagrined. "No. I mean yes. Yes, you look fine."

She dives in. "It's just, Senator..." She dives in head first. "You just look so familiar. Like someone that I know." She looks at her feet.

_Could it be possible that she recognizes my cousin? Unlike Draq', we at least share a common grandfather._

She looks at his eyes, then realizes her gaff. "My apologies, Senator. I spoke out of turn. You couldn't possibly be related to this person. He's just a Padawan that I know. My former clan master."

He smirks, but lets the expression morph into a warm smile. "No apologies, necessary, Ahsoka. I am sure that no other would want this face."

She doesn't bother with the warm smile and goes straight to the Smirk. "You're right. No one would want his face."

They both laugh. The elevator stops and opens on an anteroom. Shaak Ti smiles and rises. She walks over and grasps his hand warmly.

"Senator. That was a powerful speech this morning.

"For all the good that it has done."

Ti smiles. "I think, based upon the lecture that I have received from Master Windu, and will probably yet receive, you have certainly given the Jedi something to think about."

"I am sorry."

"Don't be. I am not so proud that I cannot fight for what I believe, even in the face of my Order."

She notices the younger version of herself standing there. Her eyes crinkle. "I see you have met Initiate Tano. Someone who is once again learning the price of pranks and sarcasm."

The Initiate blushes. Ti walk over to her and smiles fondly at her. She reaches out and straightens the girl's robes. She touches her cheek.

"Let me guess, Ahsoka. Disobedience to your new clan master?"

"Yes, Master," the young woman says in a small voice. She looks up at Ti in defiance. "She tried to make me clean the 'fresher. I am a senior Initiate..."

"Ahsoka." The quiet, powerful voice interrupts. "Haven't you seen your hunt-brother clean the 'fresher before?"

The young one looks at the floor. "Yes, Master. I know. A Jedi is humble and does what is expected and needed."

She continues to look at the floor. "It's just that I miss Croft. He knew how to get the most out of us."

Garm's eyes join the youngling's on the floor. Ti smiles and places her hand gently between the young Togruta's montrals. "I know, my proud little huntress. But his path lies elsewhere."

"Is he alright? I heard..."

"He was hurt. He is healing and will soon be headed out on a new mission."

The young one nods soberly. "In the meantime, Ahsoka, I will talk to your clan master. I think that you need a punishment more fitting of your skills. Like about ten thousand of those last lightsaber forms Croft taught you."

The girl brightens. "After you clean the Clawmouse 'fresher. As well as the Bear clan," Ti finishes. The girl's eyes fall only slightly. She perks up and bows. "Thank you Master Ti. I will make you proud."

Garm can swear that the Master's eyes glisten as she thinks of the past. "You and Taliesin already have, my fierce little huntress."

Ahsoka turns to go; she suddenly remembers her manners again. She turns and bows to Garm. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Senator. I hope to see you again." He smiles. He doesn't return her bow. He walks over to her and holds his hand out and shakes hers. "The pleasure is all mine, Ahsoka. Please, out of earshot of your stuffy old Masters," Ti smirks at that. "Call me Garm."

She smiles, nods, and returns to the elevator.

"Master, I don't know much about Jedi, but I am sure that she will be someone's handful."

"She already has been. She helped make your cousin into what he is today. Just as he has made her into someone that her future Master can further mold."

XXXXX

Garm and Ti walk into the small audience chamber off of the main Council chamber. Yoda and Mace Windu sit expectantly. Yoda and Windu rise. Yoda greets Garm warmly.

"A great speech, you gave yesterday. Powerful and full of conviction," the little gnome says.

Windu nods. "Yes. I would agree, Senator. But I can't help thinking that you had a message for us as the Council."

Garm nods. "Yes, I did, Master Windu. I think that it was very calculating of the Council, or," he looks at them both, "the two of you, to send a Master and her Padawan - a Padawan known by the both of you as a member of the Elder House, to try and keep us in the Republic and bowing to the Chancellor's dance."

Windu looks directly at Ti. "Yes. I don't know where you could've gotten that idea," he says dryly.

Ti does not back down. "Master, you have respected my opinion before. I gave you my opinion, as well as the opinion of that Elder House member, who didn't know at the time how he was being used."

The staring contest between Masters is palpable. Yoda finally breaks the silence, as he usually does. "Speak truly, you do, young Master. You may not have agreed with our instructions, but try to follow them you did. The only one that you bent," at this he smiles, "is the one about young Croft not finding out about his heritage."

Ti nods. "Forgive me, Master Yoda. It was perhaps my own disobedience that caused that failure. I felt that Ta- Padawan Croft deserved a chance that not many Jedi have. To at least make a choice."

Yoda and Windu are silent. Garm speaks up, "Masters, if I may. My cousin heard his history. Yes, he probably has more questions. But he made his choice. He told us in no uncertain terms, that he is a Jedi. We, both my father and I, respect that. We respect the Order, but we are both fearful of what it is becoming under Palpatine's rule."

The two Masters look at one another. "Fear the same we do, Senator, but we are bound to the Republic. Meditative Contemplation, we do not have the luxury of."

Windu looks at Ti. "We will have to someday have a discussion, Master Ti, about your definition of obedience."

Ti looks Windu squarely in the eye. "I look forward to that discussion with you, Mace. I will also perhaps bring up a discussion of the principles on which the Jedi were founded, as well as the Republic. My Padawan, who is wiser and more knowledgeable in these matters, might help me research those principles."

Windu is silent, but he slowly nods with a slight smile.

Ti looks at Yoda. She bows her head. "Masters, I will accept whatever punishment that the Council deems necessary. I do ask, based upon my position, that my Padawan not be included in this sanction. He is a promising Knight, who I feel is ready for more responsibility."

Yoda nods. "Well said, Master Ti. No punishment for either of you do I see. Fulfilled your oaths under trying circumstances you have."

"Have a need for all of our promising and tried Jedi we will, as failed to keep the peace we have," he concludes, as he leans on his Gimer stick.

Garm looks at all three Masters as they contemplate the failure. "No, Master Yoda, I must disagree. We Corellians have a saying--'Yesterday ends at midnight.' It is a pithy way of saying that we may have failed, but we shouldn't give up for the future."

Windu smiles, more broadly than Ti has ever seen. "The Corellians are a very wise people. Please go on, Senator.

Garm squares himself, seemingly sticking his feet to the floor in stubbornness. _Much like I have seen other Corellians do, Ti thinks, fondly._ "I believe Master Ti has given you our proposal for sharing intelligence. We think that this is one way to bring light back to the galaxy, without going against either of our principles."

Yoda and Windu both look at him. "Your words and ideas do you credit, Senator. Please go on," the Korun says.

"We feel that these liaisons at such a low level as a Padawan - one who is hopefully about to become a Knight, and a young Constable will keep the contacts off of anyone's sensors, while allowing meaningful sharing to take place."

Windu smiles. "As long as Croft knows where his loyalties lay and the Dragon doesn't try to subvert him."

Garm's eyes briefly flash. He calms himself. "Master Windu, this is your house, so I will stand and take anything you say. I think that Corellia has proven itself to the Jedi, even if we don't have to as members of the Republic. I think that Taliesin has proven himself, as well."

Yoda flashes a glance at Windu. "My apologies, Senator," Windu says, "I meant no disrespect."

"Agree we do, Senator to your plan. Croft and your young Constable...."

"Faygan."

"Faygan, yes, will work together on various ways of continuing our ties. Have other duties, young Croft will have, as a war to end, we have."

Garm is grateful for Yoda's phrasing at the end. "I am sure that Procurator Bel Iblis will have work for the Constable, as well."

"Master Ti. Do you have a problem with Croft reporting directly to me or Master Yoda for this initiative?" Windu asks.

Ti bows. "No, Mace. But it would be made easier if you would allow him to take the Trials. He is ready."

Windu shakes his head. "He may be, but now is not the time. He will take the Trials in due time."

Ti reluctantly nods. "Very well, Masters, I will hold you to that."

Yoda turns to Garm. "Senator Bel Iblis, thank you we do. Remind us of who we are you have."

Garm bows and nods at Ti in understanding. He leaves the room.

Mace looks at the Togruta Master. "Shaak, we all have a very important Council meeting to attend. Kenobi and Skywalker are missing, as is Senator Amidala. We think all are related. Please be prepared to move out in the morning, as all Temple-bound Knights and senior Padawans will be."

Ti nods, as they walk to the Council tower together. She sends a silent prayer to the Huntress for Croft to continue to recuperate.

 


	16. Family is My Strength and My Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My family is my strength and my weakness. - Aishwarya Rai Bachchan

**Coruscant  
Corellian Diplomatic Quarters**

Shaak Ti's world explodes in stars as she lays back in the bed. Her eyes take in the dim light of the room given off from the cityscape, as she feels the young woman's mouth on her center. She can feel another explosion building; she runs her fingers gently through the Zeltron's hair as Dani increases her movements.

Ti's heart flips as her finish rocks her. She is glad that no one else is in the apartment; that Garm is spending the night out, as the cries are pulled from her mouth.

Her eyes seek Dani's as she settles from her finish. She sees the laughing purple eyes in the dim light, transitioning from the black while looking at her. The Zeltron gives one last kiss to the Togruta's center and pulls herself to where her head is pillowed on Ti's stomach.

Ti can feel the smile against her skin as her breathing slows to normal.

She thinks of her day; the day that was filled with meetings and gentle, as well as not so gentle arguments with her fellow Jedi. She found that she could not stay in the Temple in that empty Master-Padawan apartment; especially with the impending movement tomorrow morning with her fellow Jedi. An operation to find the errant Kenobi and his apprentice, as well as hopefully locate the missing Naboo Senator.

Dani had solved her dilemma for her. She had found the Master outside the Temple and in no uncertain terms had told her that she was staying the night with the Zeltron.

A small bed in the security quarters was all that Dani could offer, but Ti had taken her up on it. Dani had made a convincing argument for the arrangement, as they ate a quick dinner at Dex's.

"Master Ti. Shaak. We're not getting married. I know about the Jedi and their rules about attachment. I only want to offer you comfort and pleasure and passion, and most of all relieve your burdens. I know that war is coming." Ti's face darkens. Dani forges on as she sees the expression. "I want to do what I can to center you. It is in my heritage."

"The right thing for me to say right now would be that a Jedi seeks comfort in the Force," Ti says.

"Banthashit," the young woman simply says. She takes a deep breath. "You and Croft talk a lot about what you were born to do. Well, as an empath, I was born to help people. I will do that however I can. Sometimes it just means giving you some of my joy through the resonance or relieving your pain. Sometimes," she says as she gives the Jedi a hooded look, "it means I am going to turn you inside out."

Ti sees a mischievous look play across Dani's beautiful features. "Plus, Draq' won't mind because of the intelligence that I will get while I am pumping you for information." A matching smirk plays across both their faces as that sinks in.

"You just keep thinking that, little girl," Ti says. "You have about as much chance of that, as Draq' has of getting me into bed with his steak and wine."

"Whoa! Too much information. Now you had to make it weird."

She finds herself smiling in the low light of the room. She sees Dani watching her and smiling herself. Ti pulls the young woman to lay on her fully. Dani touches her lips to Shaak's. The Master deepens the kiss, tasting herself on the young woman's lips.

She breaks the kiss and says. "I only have a little bit of time left, love, before I have to sleep. I am leaving early in the morning."

"I know, Shaak," Dani says. "Let's make the most of our time."

Shaak turns the young woman on her side. Her mouth moves to Dani's breasts, as her hand snakes down the officer's belly to her center. The room is silent except for Dani's soft cries.

**Corellia  
** **Bel Iblis Cantonment  
** **Electoral Council Chambers**

Mailyn Blackthorn, known as the Hag among the rest of the Elder Family, walks into the Council Chamber as if she owns it. Her blonde hair is immaculately coiffed; her dark eyes shine with spark and vitality. She sits at the head of the table and waits for this called farce to begin.

Draq' Bel Iblis, the thorn in her side since he married her late sister-in-law, walks in with an insufferable smirk on his face. She returns the smirk and waits for whatever he has to offer.

"Where is the rest of the Council? I don't have time for you to waste, Bel Iblis," she says.

He sits and ignores her as he pulls out a datapad. He touches the datapad to the input; a hologram pops up in the center of the table.

"The rest of the Council is leaving this bit of business to me, Hag," he says. He pushes a button, the hologram moves closer to her.

"What am I looking, at?"

"The end of your life as you know it."

Her eyes widen. "Stop talking in riddles, you son of a bitch. What do you think that you have?"

"Some nice little transmissions, courtesy of some anonymous donor from Separatist space. Courtesy of my slicer. It's very good stuff, actually. I may have to increase the little asshole's salary."

"What do you think that you have?" she repeats, her tone more insistent.

Draq' smiles. The Dragon smile that can turn worlds on their head. "Nice little transmission to one of the factions on Mandalore. About twenty years ago."

She gives no expression, except for an increase in her breathing rate.

He continues. "A nice little group of coordinates to a faction with a missile battery on that shithole." His eyes harden. "Coordinates that lead to a Corellian Engineering Corporation ship. A ship flying on an inspection of joint CEC and Mandal Motors sites"

"A ship containing a man as dear to me as my own breath and to his late sister. His new wife. Their stubborn little baby, scarcely a year old."

He stops. Collects himself. "A man who up until a couple of years before this had been the Covenant of Corellia. The heir to the Electoral Signet. A man so miserable that he chucked it all to get away from his title and from his venal wife - a woman who only cared for the title and the prestige it brought with it. Only for the money that his seat on the board of CEC brought."

"She cared nothing for his happiness; that the only thing he wanted to be was a starship engineer - a damn good one. A woman so venal that she didn't care that he had found happiness with a new wife on a new world. A woman who loved him without title, who gave birth to his son. A woman who was the closest thing to nobility on Mandalore, but cared nothing for that."

"She cared only for Jamestyn Blackthorn and their happiness together. Their son."

"This woman. His ex-wife, embraced her venality. She coined the name of the Hag. She only wanted her sons to inherit the title, so that she could draw off of them."

"But she didn't have everything. The divorce settlement only gave her dual votes on the Council. It didn't give her sons anything, as long as Styn was alive."

Mailyn is silent. Draq' looks at her. "I've got you, Mailyn," he says quietly. "This transmission was traced to your apartment. You had Styn killed, as well as his wife and son."

Mailyn looks at him. "This proves nothing. A Corellian court would never convict me."

"You're right. The rest of the Council agrees with you. However, there is something that we can do. Something that will prevent you from ever troubling this family again."

"The Council has voted unanimously, except for your two votes, to deny your sons any right at the Electoral Signet."

"How? There is no one else that has a claim."

Draq' looks at her. "That is where you are wrong. Your payments were only partially useful. The missile killed Styn and his wife, but their son was ejected. That son now has more of a claim than your's because there is no taint of foul play on his part."

Mailyn's eyes sharpen. "You can't prove I killed them."

"You're right. We can't. But there is enough of a taint that if this evidence was brought out, the rest of the Five Brothers would demand an investigation. Rasteen's Electorate would not survive."

"Let's not even talk about Garen, who apparently is a Separatist senator now."

"You blackmailing bastard. I should've..."

"Should've what? Killed me? Better people than you have tried."

'You are a true bastard. An orphan who married above him. If your wife was here, she would be the first to denounce you. Especially since you seem to honor her memory by rutting with every mis-begotten race there is. Tell me, Bel Iblis. Are you proud of your bastard get off of that Zeltron whore?"

She stops as she sees his eyes. He nods gently, his voice quiet but forceful. "Every goddamned day that I look at her."

"I wonder how the rest of the Council will feel about your little bastard - especially working for you."

"I would not go there, if I were you, Hag. Not every one is an Ensterite bigot like you are. I will tell you that you only get one threat to my family. Another and we won't worry about this little deal we have cooked up for you. They'll be carrying you out of this room with a hole in your head."

Mailyn snorts. "I know you, Dragon. You wouldn't kill an unarmed, innocent woman. You are many things, but you aren't that."

"I do love how you characterize yourself as an innocent. I also don't think you have been unarmed since your mother dropped you."

For once, he can see raw fear in her eyes.

"Mailyn, one other thing that you should know, since you bring it up as a weapon," he says quietly. "You don't know my late wife, very well. I know that I married up. Not just because of her station. She never actually brought that up. Even as she lay dying in childbirth, she never brought that up."

"This is your only chance. The Council has prepared a document for you to sign. It renounces all claim to the Electoral Signet by your sons. In return, there will be no prosecution. You can keep your apartment and a generous monthly stipend. You will no longer have a vote on this Council, much less two. Your sons will have money, but they will actually have to find jobs. Just like their father did. When the war is over, I am sure that Garen will be able to return, as we are neutral in this conflict."

"What if I don't want to sign? You said yourself there isn't enough evidence to convict."

"Not in a Corellian court. However, Styn's wife's clan on Mandalore may not need as much evidence. Do you realize how hard it is to get a Mandalorian clan off of your back in a vendetta?"

Mailyn blanches. "You wouldn't dare."

"What do you think, Hag? Would I dare, based on what you know of me?"

Everything. Every thread, every death, every betrayal of the last twenty years comes down to this moment.

"What of your little heir? He is a Jedi. He won't accept the title - he can't." She holds this as her last hope. Her last grasp of the life that she had known.

"That would be the Council's problem. We've held the title in trust for your little terrible twosome. We can do it again."

"Mailyn. The offer expires in thirty seconds. The call goes to the Shysas ten seconds after that."

He shoves the datapad to her.

XXXXX

Draq' pushes a button on a comm built into the table.

"Little asshole who expects a raise, speaking."

"It's done. Send him over here to me, as soon as you kiss him goodbye."

"He's already on his way over, Draq'," the voice says quietly.

The door opens and a solid, strong presence walks in. A presence clad in dark blue tunic and tabard with the ubiquitous brown Jedi robe. The tool of his trade and symbol of a Jedi hangs from a belt brightly decorated with the teeth of a predator and a Togruta male hunter's sash. Symbols of another, adopted culture. _All he needs is Mando iron armor. The Corellian symbol is in that damned easy grin on his face._

Draq' smiles and walks over to embrace him. He holds Croft to him for several seconds before breaking off.

They walk over to table and sit. Croft smiles. "You look like you just ate something you didn't like, but you had to."

_Perceptive little shit._

He waves it away. "No matter. A bit of housekeeping. Garbage removal."

Croft sobers and leaves it alone. "I am shipping out, Uncle." The word still comes awkwardly off of the tongue. "I don't know if I am supposed to tell you where. All of this military shit is new to me."

Draq' nods. "Let me guess. You are bound for a little garden spot called Kamino. From there you will probably be sent to one of a thousand shitholes in the galaxy for the greater glory of the Republic." Draq' shakes his head, as the bitterness comes through.

Croft ignores it, and accepts it. "Something like that. Not going as a Knight, though. Still must have some rough edges."

"They would be fools not to Knight you, soon, boy." The Dragon looks down. "I am sorry. Old habits. I shouldn't call you that, I know. I've seen what kind of man you are. What kind of man Ti has helped make you."

They are both silent. Finally, Croft speaks. "It's alright, old man. You are probably the only one who can get away with calling me that. Master Ti has other, more colorful names for me."

Draq' opens a drawer in the table. He pull out a simple silver chain with a small, oddly shaped emblem on it. "Here. I know that you can't accept the true title as a Jedi. But no one else will have it."

Croft looks at the chain and takes it from the Dragon. "It is the informal version of the Covenant Chain. The symbol of the Protector of the Five Brothers. You can wear it without anyone else knowing its meaning. You can even add other little symbols to it - symbols of your life and your honor."

Taliesin smirks. "Like a charm bracelet for useless royals?"

Draq' closes his eyes. _That has to be the Mandalorian side. No_ , he thinks. _He's just as big of a smartass as his father._

Croft puts the chain over his head and under his tunic. He stands. He holds out his hand. Draq' shakes it and pulls him into a tight embrace. "I am proud of you, sport," he whispers. He pushes the Jedi away and kisses him on the forehead. "May the Force be with you, Taliesin Croft."

"May the Force be with You, Uncle."

He turns and leaves the room. The Dragon of Corellia watches hope walk out of the door. For a brief time.

He breaks out of his reverie and pushes the button on the comm.

"Yes, boss?" a voice answers. "Is he gone?"

"Afraid so, Phygus. How is that legend I told you to create coming?"

"Almost finished, for now. I'll update it as time passes. Need a name, though."

"You pick," the Dragon says. "Just don't name him something like Phygus Baldrick."

"He should be so lucky."

In his 'cave', a little slicer - the 'big' brother to the legend in question looks at his creation. He looks at the empty name slots.

The last name is obvious. The name of the building that mean so much to both of them and their early lives.

The name of an ancient title. One that predates the Republic.

He is stuck on the first name. He searches - a random search. A brightly colored ad catches his attention. An ad for a product from a world that the man in question has adopted. Another world that has shaped him and formed him.

_Spiced Akar sausage - a product of Shili._

The slicer looks at the brand name. A smirk forms on his lips. _Don't know what it means in Togruti, but it sings._

He fills in the appropriate slots on the legend and hits save. It would be ready for him if he ever needed it.

**Coruscant  
** **Corellian Diplomatic Quarters**

Shaak Ti comes awake gently, as the early dawn light of the cityscape plays over her. The woman lying in her arms, her head pillowed on Ti's chest murmurs in her sleep. Ti feels a feather light kiss on her chest. She smiles gently.

She is slightly tired, slightly sore, but feels more alive than she has in a great while. The pain that seems to be her constant companion is muted.

The smile fades as she thinks of the coming mission and the violence that it will bring. The darkness. The darkness for the Jedi. For her Padawan. For this young officer breathing evenly and lightly in her arms. For billions of young people just like them.

She shakes her head. She kisses Dani awake and rolls on top of her. The young woman sleepily smiles and wraps her arms and legs around her, as they both feel the light build. Ti kisses her way down Dani's body until she reaches her objective. Her lekku twine around the officer's body as her mouth plays over the nerve cluster at Dani's center.

The light builds and swallows both of them, as their cries echo through the room.

They are still again as the light holds.

The light holds the darkness at bay.

For a time.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all who have read and commented. I hope that it has brought you some enjoyment. I know that I have enjoyed writing. 
> 
> Thank you again.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [With Allies Like These](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8128996) by [B_Radley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley)




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